The Teddy Bears' Picnic
by purplepie1
Summary: Takes place straight after the finale. Elliot is desperate for some answers following the execution of the hack. When he finally finds Tyrell he is in worse shape than Elliot had hoped. Will Tyrell be able to shed some light on the last few days, or will they stumble upon yet more questions that need answers?
1. Chapter 1

Elliot felt his heart stop as the pounding on the door continued. His eyes darted around anxiously as he considered his options. He quickly came to the conclusion, however, that the only person he really wanted to be on the other side of that door was Tyrell. After several seconds of indecisive pacing that felt like hours, the knocking stopped. Shit. It was now or never. Should he call out, find out who was on the other side? But what if it was Darlene, or worse, Angela? He wasn't in a position to explain anything to them right now. What if it was Joanna?! He had the eerie feeling that her words to him had been some sort of threat, and being that she was easily twice as creepy as her husband, she _definitely_ knew where he lived. Fuck.

For the first since waking up in Tyrell's car his fear was verging on hysteria, yet at the same time he was so, _so_ tired. Feeling disconnected from his body he lunged forward to yank the door open and was met with the sight of an unconscious form slumped at his feet. Elliot froze as his mind frantically supplied him with yet more questions, and the hysteria began to make him dizzy.

Like a kick to his shins that spurred him into action his brain managed to supply him with its first useful thought: the pale, unconscious form in front of him was Tyrell. A wave of emotions washed over him- relief, joy, fear, yet more panic – as he grabbed Tyrell under the arms and dragged him very ungracefully into the apartment.

With no small amount of difficulty given the difference in size between him and Tyrell, he managed to get him onto the bed. For the first time he properly took in his appearance. To his great relief, he looked completely unscathed, no cuts, bruises, or outward signs of physical harm. _Good._ However, he was pale (more so than usual), with dark bags under his eyes and a sheen of sweat on his forehead. _Not so good._ Hesitantly, Elliot reached for a pulse, breathing out a sigh when he found a steady rhythm. He was cold though, _too cold_ , Elliot realised with alarm, and he quickly covered him over with a quilt. Satisfied that Tyrell wasn't in any immediate danger, Elliot pondered what to do next, and fought away feelings of disappointment that he still had to wait for some answers.

Inspecting Tyrell closer, he realised that he was, sickly pallor aside, his usual immaculate self. Whoever had left him at Elliot's door (and shit, why hadn't Elliot thought to look out the window to catch a glimpse of who it was?!) had been uninterested in taking any of Tyrell's possessions. The expensive watch was still on his left wrist, wedding ring on his finger, and a quick pat down revealed that Tyrell still had his wallet and phone. Clearly the person who left him here had known exactly who he was, and of his ties to Elliot. Had he left him there to send a message? Elliot ground his teeth together to stop himself groaning with frustration. This person, whoever it was, was yet another person who knew more than him, who understood more about his own life than he did. Why couldn't he remember the last three days? Why were there more questions than answers?

 _Wait! This is weird. It is weird, right? You think so too?_

He barked out a laugh as he realised that he was so hysterical that he hadn't even _acknowledged_ the fact that there, tied to Tyrell's right wrist, was a single, red balloon. And honestly, with everything that was going on right now, maybe the balloon wasn't even that strange. Though Elliot suspected it was. Untying it from Tyrell's wrist he brought it to his face. Unsure what he was supposed to do with it, he sniffed it tentatively, before laughing again at his own insanity. Nothing made sense any more. Everything about this situation was so bizarre that Elliot couldn't even begin to imagine what a normal person would do in his shoes. He found that thought oddly comforting, and with his confidence in his own sanity somewhat restored, he jolted into action. Deciding that he was just going to do what felt natural to him, he picked up a knife from the counter, and popped the balloon. Nothing happened (though he didn't really know what he was expecting). Perhaps he was just hoping the noise would wake Tyrell up.

He briefly considered whether Tyrell needed medical assistance, but another check of his pulse and breathing reassured him that he didn't, at least not for now. He also wondered if he should reach out to Joanna; surely she would still be worried about where her husband was. Elliot shivered as he remembered their unsettling conversation, and quickly decided that this wasn't a road he wanted to go down. Also, selfishly, he knew he wouldn't get any answers, and more than anything right now, he _needed_ answers. He rationalised that Tyrell must have been left at his door for a reason, that some all-knowing part of the universe had brought him here, but once again, whether that was how a sane person would see it, Elliot didn't know.

Overwhelmed by another desperate wave of frustration Elliot took Tyrell's wrist and began shaking it. Gently at first, then more vigorously, in the hopes the older man would start to stir. _Slap._ A gentle blow to Tyrell's face, then another, harder one. A few more slaps, until Elliot stopped himself abruptly, with a sharp intake of breath. Feelings of guilt washed over him, as an angry red coloured Tyrell's cheeks. Still, the man didn't even stir, and again Elliot wondered whether he needed medical attention.

Making a deal with himself that he would hold out for an hour before seeking help, Elliot resigned himself to the fact that he was just going to have to be patient. He leaned down to do another quick check of his pulse, feel the temperature of his skin (warmer now, thankfully), and gently brush the hair off his forehead (an act of kindness he saw as making up for the slapping).

In place of the usual fear and unease he felt towards the man, Elliot found himself feeling compassion, and the strange urge to make Tyrell aware that he wasn't alone. Not wanting to hold his hand _(too intimate),_ he settled for resting a gentle hand on the man's shoulder, as he perched awkwardly next to him on the bed. It was strange seeing him like this. In sleep his features were relaxed, peaceful. His usual air of arrogance had dispersed, and Elliot couldn't see the bright blue eyes that acted as a battlefield for the power, hunger, and unhinged madness that swirled within him. Even in his vulnerability though, there was still a sort of commanding presence about him, which Elliot found compelling. He moved again to brush the hair from Tyrell's forehead, before closing his eyes, in an attempt to calm his raging thoughts.

It wasn't long before a groan brought him out of his state of drowsy half-sleep, and he snapped his eyes open to focus on the man lying next to him.

Tyrell was stirring slowly, a pained expression clouding his face as he appeared to struggle to open his eyes. Reacting quickly, Elliot bolted round to the other side of the bed, crouching on the floor to be at eye-level with Tyrell.

'It's OK, you're safe. It's Elliot. I'm here. Tyr-' Elliot was cut off by another moan as Tyrell slowly opened his eyes. Hazy, bloodshot (but no less startlingly blue) eyes met Elliot's wide-eyed stare, and for a second it felt like time had stood still. Elliot, finally snapping out of his reverie, was about to ask Tyrell if he was alright, when the other man rolled over sharply and began to dry-heave violently over the side of the bed.

'Shit!' Elliot sprinted to the kitchen, grabbed the first bowl he could find, and quickly returned, placing it under Tyrell's head.

Several long, and painful-sounding minutes of dry-heaving continued, as Elliot awkwardly held Tyrell's fringe away from his face, and gently rubbed his back.

Eventually he finished, and managed to gingerly sit up, with his back against the wall.

Elliot, remembering how his dad used to look after him when he was sick, snuck off to fill up a glass of water, and grab a damp washcloth.

Tyrell flinched when Elliot rested the washcloth on his forehead, but gratefully accepted the water. Elliot noticed with concern that Tyrell was breathing with some difficulty.

'Just breathe…slowly…in-' Tyrell cut him off with some slurred words that Elliot couldn't make out, but suspected weren't English.

'Tyrell, I don't understand what you're saying. Just breathe, don't talk.'

Finally, Tyrell's murmuring ceased, and he seemed to manage to calm himself.

After what seemed like an eternity to Elliot, he opened his eyes again, and Elliot was relieved to find that they looked sharper and more focused than before. He was still shaking, and looked feverish, but he seemed a lot more aware of his surroundings.

Elliot didn't quite catch it the first time as Tyrell's voice was quiet and hoarse, but the second time was clear as a bell.

'Elliot…did we do it?'


	2. Chapter 2

'You don't remember anything?!' Elliot's shouts echoed off the bare walls of his apartment.

'No,' came the whispered response. Uncharacteristically, Tyrell sounded small and frightened, and Elliot saw that he was holding back tears.  
Again it struck Elliot how strange it was to see him like this. The smooth mask of confidence and power had slipped away, and the swirling maelstrom of desperate energy it struggled to conceal had quietened too. All Elliot saw was fear and confusion so intense it mirrored his own. The face that he had once thought of as sharp and cold was now soft and childlike, and the piercing blue eyes that used to see right through him were now lowered with uncertainty.

Elliot battled his own overwhelming feeling of frustration until guilt took hold and he gently nudged Tyrell's shoulder. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 

Tyrell looked up at him, somewhat taken aback, before regaining what was left of his composure and hissing desperately, 'I don't know why I'm here. I don't remember anything after you told me your plan. I feel like I come close to remembering something, but then the memory is snatched away from me. I can't-' Elliot could see that he was starting to get worked up, and if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that he needed Tyrell calm right now.

'The same thing happened to me. I woke up in your car, three days after we executed the hack. We did it Tyrell, we actually did it.' For the first time, despite himself, Elliot found he was smiling, but this went unnoticed by the other man.

'You woke up in my car? But I wasn't there? That makes no sense.'

'Exactly! And I spent three whole days looking for you, everywhere, before coming back here. And it turns out I needn't have bothered because someone brought you here anyway.' It was so ridiculous to say it out loud that Elliot would have laughed, had he not been so confused.

'Who brought me here?' Okay, good. Tyrell was doing what Elliot needed him to be doing. He was slipping into business-mode and asking questions. His emotions were slowly leaving his face, and the mask was coming back on. He still seemed drowsy, but this was a vast improvement. _This_ was the Tyrell that was going to help him get to the bottom of things. This was why he was both intimidating and impressive in equal measures; his ability to shut down the parts of himself that were useless to him. His ability to manipulate not only others, but himself, to get the outcome he desired.

'I don't know. I didn't get a look at them. By the time-'

'Doesn't matter. What else do you know?'

'I really don't know anything,' Elliot started dejectedly, before a strange image forced its way to the front of his mind, 'except that you had a balloon tied to your wrist.'

'A balloon?' Tyrell asked slowly.

'Yes. A red one.'

'Like a-' Tyrell gestured the shape of a circle, apparently certain that he was somehow misunderstanding Elliot.

'Yes, exactly.'

Tyrell pondered this for a moment before asking, 'did you burst it?'

Elliot marvelled momentarily at the fact that Tyrell's instinct had been the same as his. Maybe Tyrell was right about them having a connection, maybe they _were_ meant to work side-by-side. But then again, hadn't they already proven that by pulling off the hack? Elliot's mind started to race again.

'Yes, I popped it. There was nothing inside it. So the balloon means nothing to you?'

'No,' Tyrell sighed, as Elliot huffed in frustration.

'How strange,' Tyrell breathed, before doing something Elliot never could have pictured him doing – giggling. Elliot looked at him in alarm and found that sweat was starting to bead on his forehead again, and his eyes were swimming in a way that made him look delirious. Elliot was now officially certain that Tyrell had been drugged with something, and even more certain that this was a very foreign experience to him. He doubted that someone like Tyrell ever wanted to feel out of control, and he could see by the look on the man's face now that he was feeling very uneasy.

'You OK?'

Tyrell shook his head weakly and sucked in a shallow breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he did so.

'OK, you need to lie back and take some deep breaths. I promise, this feeling will pass, you'll be fine soon. I think maybe you should eat something.'  
At this, Tyrell shook his head more fervently. Elliot knew that he was probably still feeling sick, but he suspected that soon he would want to eat. Besides, Elliot's own stomach was rumbling aggressively, so he figured it couldn't hurt to find some food.

Feeling Elliot move away from him, Tyrell let out a soft moan, which Elliot suspected was completely involuntary.

'It's OK, I'm still here.' He continued to utter soft reassurances to Tyrell as he quickly looked through his fridge for something edible. He eventually discovered a frozen pizza (date of origin unknown, but should be fine, surely?) which he threw in his seldom-used oven.

Grabbing another big glass of water, he headed back over to where Tyrell lay, still shaking, and looking increasingly flushed. He managed to force some water down him, and got a fresh washcloth which Tyrell seemed to welcome more than last time.

After that Elliot could only look on helplessly. He had no idea what Tyrell had been given, but Elliot, having had more than his fair share of unpleasant drug-related experiences, thought it was fair to guess that he was probably feeling pretty shitty. And scared. And alone. _Fuck this._ Throwing caution to the wind Elliot grabbed Tyrell's hand and gave it a firm squeeze. _I'm here._ Tyrell gave a gentle squeeze back, and Elliot took that as permission to lie down next to him and rub soothing circles with his thumb. Elliot gradually felt Tyrell begin to relax, and his breathing even out. Not long after that, the events of the day caught up with him, and he too fell into a dreamless slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

Elliot jerked awake sometime after 4am. His mouth was dry, the light hurt his eyes, and there was a solid weight around his middle. Startled he turned around, to be faced with a sleeping Tyrell, who had apparently at some point in the night moved onto his side and slung an arm round him.

 _Can you believe this? I'm not imagining this am I?_ Elliot had to stop himself from laughing as the sheer ridiculousness of the situation hit him. If someone had told him a month ago that Tyrell Wellick, former VP of tech at Evil Corp would be in his bed, for all intents and purposes _cuddling_ him, he would have laughed in their face. Or, in reality, been terrified.

He gently extracted himself from the larger man's grip, and shuffled over to the kitchen for water, noting with relief that the oven timer still worked and his pizza hadn't been cremated.

'Elliot?' came Tyrell's voice, thick with sleep.

Elliot made his way back over to the bed, and was pleased to see that Tyrell was looking much better. His eyes were clearer, and his complexion had returned to normal.

'I'm sorry, I made us pizza, but I think it's gone a little cold. I could reheat it?'

Tyrell shook his head, and Elliot was fairly sure he was saying no to pizza in general, when the older man surprised him by reaching out and taking a slice.

He ate it carefully, seemingly deep in thought, before muttering, 'Elliot this is disgusting.'

Elliot laughed, despite himself, and was surprised to see that Tyrell was smiling softly.

After their questionable midnight snack Tyrell seemed to be feeling relatively normal again, and asked if he could take a shower. Elliot got him set up with some clean towels and found a spare toothbrush (which he was fairly impressed he owned). While Tyrell showered he tried to find him some clean clothes, mentally cursing their notable size difference. Satisfied the oversized black tee and sweats he found wouldn't look _too_ ridiculous on Tyrell, he booted up his computer and continued looking through the news for information.

More and more reports continued to flood in from across the globe, but they offered nothing that Elliot didn't already know. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out yet another frustrated sigh as he gave up and sat back down on the bed.

Once Tyrell was washed and dressed the pair sat on the sofa together. Seeing Tyrell in a baggy t-shirt and too-short sweats was yet another hilarious image for Elliot to process. It seemed like his brain was using so much of its power struggling to comprehend that the world as he knew it was now completely unrecognisable, that it simply couldn't process this new version of Tyrell as well. Frozen pizza-eating, baggy sweats-wearing Tyrell. _Tyrell 2.0._ He tried not to giggle. _Fuck, everything feels wrong. Nothing feels real anymore._

'…Elliot?' Shit, apparently Tyrell had been saying something.

'Sorry, what?'

'I was saying thank you. For everything. And especially for your…' he chose his words slowly, 'care and support.'

'Okay,' Elliot replied awkwardly, but they shared a small smile. Tyrell hesitantly placed his hand on Elliot's shoulder. Elliot found himself fighting the urge to hug Tyrell, but settled with an awkward clap on the hand resting on his shoulder.

'Elliot, do you know anything of my wife? I am concerned that if your plan went accordingly she might not be safe.'

Elliot had debated whether or not to tell Tyrell about his encounter with Joanna, but seeing the worry in his eyes, he didn't feel like he could lie to him. _Plus he would see right through it anyway, and where would that get us?_

'I…um… saw her. When I was looking for you. She looked well. So did the baby…' he trailed off uncomfortably, reluctant to disclose any more information about their meeting.

Tyrell smiled a watery smile. 'The baby. She's probably named him, and I don't even-' he stopped himself as his tears threatened to spill over. Wiping his eyes, he continued, 'I'm glad they're alright.'

Elliot squeezed his knee gently and gave him a small smile. Tyrell looked dazed for a moment, before visibly shaking himself and clearing his throat. 'Right, we need to keep talking about what we know. Compare our versions of events, what we've learned, anything useful.'

Elliot blinked, fazed momentarily by the sudden shift in mood, before getting back to the matter at hand. 'Okay, well you've probably realised that you weren't robbed by whoever brought you here. Wallet, phone, your watch- all still there. So clearly whoever had you just wanted information. Do you have any idea where you were? If you answered any questions? I think they brought you here to send me a message, but what? I think we should take a look at your phone, maybe there's something on there?'

Tyrell looked incredulous. 'You haven't done that already?'

Elliot looked down sheepishly, 'Well, no, it seemed weird. And by the time I actually thought about doing it you were waking up, so-'

Tyrell barked out a surprised laugh. 'Elliot, you wasted no time in hacking me before, what stopped you this time?' _Shit, so he did know about that._

'I don't know, I wasn't exactly thinking clearly,' Elliot retorted irritably.

'And besides, I thought you would have realised by now that we are allies. What's mine is yours Elliot, no secrets. We are a part of each other now, and in turn, a part of something so much bigger.'

The intensity of his gaze, and the weight of his words unnerved Elliot. 'Okay,' he murmured, hesitantly.

This response seemed to satisfy Tyrell, who quickly went about the task of retrieving his wallet and phone from his suit pockets. His phone battery had died, so Elliot found a charger, and they waited in silence while it booted up. Breathlessly they searched through it, emails, photos, audio files, video, _everything,_ but there was nothing.

Elliot angrily punched the sofa cushion, while Tyrell grabbed his wallet and threw it angrily at the wall with a growl of frustration. Mid-air, it fell open, and they stared in shock as a small folded piece of paper fluttered out.


	4. Chapter 4

They both leapt to grab the note, but Elliot was faster. His heart hammering in his chest he carefully unfolded the paper. After reading the words several times in his head he numbly read them aloud to Tyrell.

' _If you go down to the woods today, you're sure of a big surprise.'_

He tried not to cry with disappointment, and looking at Tyrell he could see that he felt the same way. He didn't know why he even thought there would be some actual information on there, of course it would have to be some sort of riddle. Fuck this. When would they finally start getting some answers?

'I don't understand. The woods?' He heard Tyrell ask.

'Yeah it's from the song.'

'Song? What are you talking about?'

'It's a line from a song. A children's nursery rhyme. It's called the Teddy Bears' Picnic.' This time Elliot found no amusement in the strangeness of the situation. He just felt weary. The tiredness permeated his bones and made each movement painful. He just wanted to give up.

'Are you kidding me? It's a fucking song for children?! What is that supposed to mean?'

Elliot closed his eyes. 'I don't know.'

'Fuck,' Tyrell spat angrily.

'Unless,' Elliot started, feeling the gears in his mind shift once again, 'it's a threat. The next line of the song is ' _if you go down to the woods today, you'd better go in disguise.'_ Maybe-'

'They know we did it. They know it's us who executed the hack. They're warning us!'

'But why? Why would they not use this information against us? Turn us in, or make us fix it?'

'I have no idea. But one thing's certain, we need to be careful. Either we have an ally out there protecting us, or more likely we have someone very dangerous who has a lot of incriminating evidence against us and a plan to use it.'

 _Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._

'Elliot I'm so sorry, this could all be my fault. I have no idea what I said to them.'

'You forget I'm missing the last three days as well, I have no idea what I did, or-'

'Fuck,' Tyrell cursed again angrily.

'We just need to think about this, and come up with a plan…' Elliot took a deep breath, '…I think there's someone I need to call.'


	5. Chapter 5

Elliot wasn't sure what to expect when Darlene came through the door, but her throwing her arms around him in a bone-crushing hug certainly wasn't it.

'We did it, Elliot! _You_ did it!' She let out a sound that was somewhere between a squeal of delight and a giggle, and Elliot was taken back to that night on the bench, when she'd been so overwhelmed with joy and child-like anticipation that she'd screamed at the top of her lungs for all the world to hear. Elliot cringed as he remembered what had happened after that moment; he'd thought she looked so beautiful- free, happy, and with a fire blazing in her eyes. Elliot had hoped then that he would one day feel unadulterated joy as she had done, and he found himself thinking the same now.

Darlene pulled away from Elliot, looking flushed with happiness, before her face contorted into a frown and she jabbed him hard in the shoulder.

'Where the fuck have you been? You push the button, the world unravels, and you just disappear? What the fuck is that about?!'

'I'm…' Elliot trailed off weakly, 'I've been… confused,' he finished lamely.

'What the fuck does that mean?' It was scary, really, how passionate people like Darlene could swing wildly between different emotions. Elliot could never keep up, and he wondered why his own spectrum of feelings was so narrow. Had he been numbing himself for so long that he'd simply forgotten how to feel?

He realised that Darlene was staring at him, with a mix of concern and the dying embers of anger burning in her eyes.

'Darlene, I need your help.' Wrong answer.

' _You_ need _my_ help?! We've been running around for days destroying any evidence of _your_ plan Elliot. You unleash chaos, _without telling us_ , disappear, and then we're left to pick up the pieces? And seriously Elliot, what the fuck?' This last question was accompanied by an angry jab in Tyrell's direction.

Elliot for the most part had forgotten Tyrell was there, and blinked in surprise at Darlene's outburst. Tyrell met Darlene's glare with cold eyes, and a mask of indifference.

'Oh, sorry, Darlene, this is Tyrell,' Elliot attempted to explain with whatever small amount of confidence he could muster. 'He's-'

Elliot didn't think it was possible, but Darlene somehow managed to look even angrier than before, a large vein beginning to bulge in her forehead.

'Are you fucking kidding me Elliot? How could you possibly have forgotten?!' she screeched.

'I'm sorry, I don't remember anything since the hack. I-'

'You're unbelievable Elliot. I'm not talking about the last few days. I've met your _friend_ here plenty of times, and I've made it clear to you that I don't trust him.' _What? What the fuck is she talking about?_ Elliot would have to talk to Tyrell about this later. A quick glance in his direction revealed that Tyrell was looking… defeated? If Elliot didn't know any better, he'd say he looked disappointed. But there was no time to worry about that now.

'Darlene, I don't know what to tell you, but he helped us. It's thanks to him that we succeeded.' Elliot hoped this was true. He assumed it was, but who the fuck knew anymore?

'I don't care what you think of him Elliot, he has his own agenda, and if you know what's good for you you'll stay far, far away from him.'

Silence fell. Darlene tried to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling in quick, angry movements. Elliot felt numb, a look of blank resignation on his face. Tyrell just looked lost. Elliot had thought about this moment for so long. He'd thought about what life would be like after they'd bought the 1% to its feet, and turned the world on its head. He thought he'd feel free, joyous, _something._ Fuck, he thought he'd at least remember it. But instead he was confused, and every question he had gave rise to yet more questions, and once again he just felt so, _so_ tired.

Finally, after a long few moments, it was Tyrell's turn to speak.

'Darlene, I know what you think of me, but I'm with you on all of this. I stand for what you stand for, it just took me far too long to realise it. And I certainly wouldn't harm Elliot. Right now I'm hoping that you'll put whatever you feel about me aside, and help us. We have reason to believe that someone knows we're behind the hack.'

'That's not possible, we covered our tracks. Everything is destroyed.'

'Yes, _you_ did, but Elliot and I both disappeared after the hack, yes?' Darlene nodded. 'And neither of us have any memory of where we were or what we did.'

'Shit, you guys are made for each other. You're just as crazy as-'

'Elliot's not crazy, and neither am I.'

Elliot felt compelled to argue, but stopped himself as he felt oddly warmed by Tyrell's words.

'Darlene, I didn't forget for the same reasons as Elliot. I forgot because _someone made me._ '

That got Darlene's attention. 'How do you know?'

Tyrell explained, as best he could, the events of the last 24 hours, eventually handing over the piece of paper that was in his wallet to Darlene.

She examined it, confused. 'Why would I have any idea what this means?'

'You don't know who could have written it?'

'Again, _why_ would I know that?'

Tyrell sighed dejectedly. 'I don't know. I just hoped-' Darlene cut him off as she turned to Elliot.

'Elliot, I'm done with this bullshit. In my opinion, someone out there is pretty pissed with your friend here. You need to stay the hell away from him and move on with your life. Listen to me or don't, but I can't be involved in your life while he still is.' She moved to let herself out, before turning and pressing a gentle hand to Elliot's shoulder.

'Be careful Elliot.'

After she left Tyrell walked slowly up to Elliot, surveying his face carefully. Elliot's wide eyes gave nothing away and his posture conveyed weariness, but nothing else.

'Elliot, I think I should go. Your sister's right.'

 _No. Stay. Please!_

'Okay.'

'I need to see my family, and try to rebuild my life. Darlene was right; you need to do the same as well. Take care of yourself Elliot.' The look in Tyrell's eyes belied his words, and Elliot sensed that it wouldn't take much to convince him to stay.

Instead, Elliot stood motionless as Tyrell gathered his possessions.

'Thank you Elliot,' he heard Tyrell say sadly as he made his way over to the door.

And then he was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

One hour. Or had it been more? Tyrell was gone. Again. But this time it had been Elliot's doing.

Elliot took a slow drag on his cigarette as he stared into Qwerty's fishbowl. Tyrell had once told him that he liked Qwerty. He'd likened his own life to that of a fish, swimming round in circles with only ever one thought, one singular outlook on life. He seemed sad, Elliot remembered, and told him that he wished he could free Qwerty. Elliot at this point had hurriedly changed the subject, sending Qwerty a reassuring glace, while mentally making a note to move his bowl to the windowsill to give him a change of scenery.

When did this conversation happen? Elliot couldn't remember. Thrown by Darlene's comments about having met Tyrell several times before, Elliot had been busying himself trying to put together a timeline of recent events. At first this had been a good distraction from the deafening silence of his apartment, but he was now starting to feel disturbed by how many gaps he had in his memories.

Loneliness began to swell inside him, rotting his insides and making him feel sick. Darlene and Tyrell had both told him to get on with his life, but he didn't know how.

As crazy and messed up as Tyrell's family life was likely to be, Elliot felt jealous of it. He could be a husband couldn't he? Buy flowers, and remember anniversaries. Maybe even have children. He could take them to see movies, and teach them about computers. He would always be there for them. Yes, he thought, he could be a good dad. He wondered what Darlene had planned for her life, whether she wanted the same things he did. He wondered what would be left of the world when the dust settled. He wondered if he would ever see Tyrell again.

He wondered what he even thought about Tyrell. He used to find him controlled and intimidating, but recently Elliot felt like he'd watched him unravel in front of his eyes. It had been unsettling. Tyrell had come to him and confessed _murder,_ Elliot recalled with a shudder. He should feel disgust, hatred even, but somehow he couldn't. Elliot hadn't believed Tyrell's words about not feeling guilty for a second. Whether it was intuition, or some shared experience that Elliot was forgetting, he had a feeling deep down inside him that Tyrell, at his core, wasn't a bad person.

He had wild ambition, and an unhinged determination that drove him to do things that were outside of himself. Things he regretted, things he probably despised. He was confused by the intensity of his own impulses, and the motives that drove him in the first place. But then, couldn't the same be said about Elliot?

Yes, there was no doubt in Elliot's mind that Tyrell had lost sight of himself. That his actions were those of a man who was pushing himself desperately towards a fate he could no longer remember his reasons for wanting.

Elliot honestly didn't know if Tyrell's presence in his life was a good thing. Tyrell brought chaos and danger, and swept Elliot up in his tornado of self-destruction. But Elliot was certain that the same could not be said about his own presence in Tyrell's life.

He had given Tyrell focus, and a cause he could believe in. He had helped him to channel his untamed energy into bettering the world. He had provided the clarity Tyrell so desperately craved, and taken away the fear and doubt he felt towards himself. And now Tyrell was gone. What would happen to him?

Tyrell was flawed, but to Elliot he represented strength and power. He was sharp, quick and intuitive. While others (and at one point, Elliot himself) manipulated Tyrell's weaknesses, Elliot understood how to harness his strengths. While others saw Tyrell as a puppet, Elliot saw him as an ally. A magnetic force (serendipity, as Tyrell would like to say) kept bringing them together, and Elliot could see with increasing clarity that in this world they had created together, they were going to need each other.

Before he even had the chance to contemplate his next actions his phone started to ring. Seeing it was an unknown number he picked up warily.

'Elliot, you need to come to my house.' His accent was stronger than usual. Elliot noticed that when his control started to slip, his clipped, precise tones went with it. Elliot liked to hear it; it reminded him of the real Tyrell that existed under the mask he wore (and if he was honest, Elliot found the natural lilting quality of his voice quite pleasant).

'Elliot, _please,_ come now.' Something was wrong. Tyrell was taking quick, shallow breaths, and was now saying something in Swedish. Elliot had no idea what it meant, but something about the rhythm and repetition of his words sounded to him like prayer.

'Tyrell, are you hurt?'

'No, just come. They're gone.'


	7. Chapter 7

_They're gone. They're gone. They're gone. They're gone._ Tyrell's voice chanted in his head as he fidgeted anxiously in the back of the taxi .

Elliot's mind jumped to the worst possible scenarios as he silently prayed to every god he could think of that the driver would go faster. Gone meant dead, right? It was definitely never a good thing. Tyrell had sounded so distraught. Oh God. Elliot was terrible at making people feel better. It wasn't that he couldn't empathise, he just never knew what to say. When things had gone wrong in his own life, people's words of comfort just irritated him. He wanted to scream at them that they didn't understand. Nothing ever made him feel better.

He wondered when his relationship with Tyrell had become so co-dependent. Why Tyrell trusted him so much, and when the hell the feeling became mutual.

It struck Elliot suddenly that he may well be the most important person to Tyrell. Did Tyrell have any friends? Elliot doubted it; his wife and career seemed to be at the centre of his world. And now he had neither. What about parents? Did he go back to Sweden from time to time and do nice normal things like family dinners, and walks? It was hard to picture.

The taxi started to slow down, and Elliot recognised the row of grand townhouses from his last visit. An icy chill ran down his spine as he again recalled his conversation with Joanna. How was it possible that she was gone, he'd only seen her a few days ago? He forced down a laugh as he thought about how simple and (relatively) normal his life was not that long ago. Before Mr. Robot, fsociety's plans to save the world, and unsettling blue-eyed execs that appeared at every turn.

Again, nervousness settled at the bottom of his stomach as he hurriedly paid the driver and ran up the stairs to knock on Tyrell's front door.

Several agonising seconds passed, before the door swung open to reveal a wild-eyed Tyrell.

'Elliot,' Tyrell breathed shakily, motioning limply for Elliot to come in. With the door safely closed behind them, Elliot took a moment to study him. He looked wrecked, uncharacteristically messy hair falling into bloodshot, puffy eyes, and clothes in disarray. Elliot thought he could smell vodka on him too, but he couldn't be sure.

'Tyrell, what happened?'

'They're gone Elliot- Joanna, the baby. Gone!' His voice cracked on the last word. As if the effort of standing suddenly became too much, he swayed backwards to lean against the wall, shaking his hands vigorously as if trying to get blood back into his fingertips. Without thought, Elliot captured them in his own hands and clasped them firmly.

This seemed to jolt Tyrell back into the moment and he blinked at Elliot in shock.

'Hey,' Elliot tried to give him a small smile, 'tell me from the start, what happened?'

Tyrell struggled to suck in a deep breath. Elliot moved his hands upwards to rub the top of Tyrell's arms, in what he hoped was a gesture of comfort and encouragement. 'It's okay.' _Here we go, time to roll out the shitty platitudes_.

Tyrell made a weird strangled sound. 'They're just…gone! Look!' He took off suddenly, pacing into the adjoining room. Elliot followed nervously.

'See!' he gestured around. All Elliot saw was the expensive furniture and elegant décor he'd expected from a home belonging to an image-conscious man like Tyrell.

'Um…?' he began, not liking the crazed look Tyrell was giving him.

'Every single trace: gone! Look, all the photos of us, any sign that she was ever here. It's like she's been deleted.' He swore loudly in Swedish, and the last syllable tailed off into a sob.

'She left you?'

'No, no, no! She left me, yes. After our son was born she told me I had to fix things if I wanted to be a part of our family. But she gave me a chance Elliot! She wouldn't just leave me like this. She wouldn't!'

Elliot looked at him pityingly; he seemed to be grasping at straws.

'Ty-'

'No, Elliot! No!' He shouted, drawing himself to his full height, a mad look in his eyes.

He strode purposefully across the room to Elliot, grabbing him by the forearm. 'Come with me.'

They took frantic strides up to Tyrell's bedroom, and what Elliot saw sitting in the middle of the bed made his blood run cold.

A single red balloon.

'Like the one that-'

'Yes,' Elliot whispered breathlessly, his mind already starting to race.

'Elliot, what does this mean?' he asked so brokenly that Elliot wished desperately he could give him some sort of answer.

'I don't know.'

Tyrell let out another choked sob, squeezing his eyes shut, and clamping a hand over his mouth.

'I think I need a minute,' he managed to whisper, and Elliot nodded blankly.

Elliot flinched as he heard a smash come from the next room, and the dam finally burst as Tyrell began to cry.

Elliot sat awkwardly on the bed, trying to block out the muffled sobs coming through the walls by examining the balloon. As with the one on Tyrell's wrist though, there was nothing special about it at all, and Elliot sighed in frustration. He could still hear the sounds of Tyrell's distress, and he decided to go back downstairs and give him a bit more privacy.

He found his way into the kitchen and had a brief nose through the fancy-looking food and expensive wines. Elliot was reminded of the pizza he'd fed Tyrell back at his place, but the thought no longer brought him any amusement.

Sighing, he took a seat, and tried to think of something, _anything,_ he could do to help. He took out his phone and searched Tyrell's Facebook profile. No relationship status. No photos of the two of them together. No private messages, or interactions of any kind. A quick search for 'Joanna Wellick' pulled up nothing, nor did 'Joanna Olofsson'. Elliot searched through his friends for people that could be family, but nothing came up. _No leads there then_. Elliot wondered again if Tyrell had any family. Maybe they just had no online presence, or worse, maybe they too had been erased. Elliot shuddered at the term 'erased'. What were they supposed to assume here? Had Tyrell's family been killed? A wave of sympathy washed over him, and he considered whether he should go up and see how Tyrell was doing.

He poured two glasses of water, and pondered taking up some food, before deciding against it.

Taking a deep, calming breath he made his way quietly up the stairs. He stopped outside the door, staring at it as if it would tell him what to do. He cleared his throat, and knocked gently.

'Tyrell?'

He heard movement from inside, but no protestations, so he took that as permission to enter.

Tyrell was standing in the middle of the room, rubbing his eyes, and desperately trying to clean himself up. _Putting the mask back on_.

Elliot couldn't say what he did next was something that ever came naturally to him, but suddenly it felt like the only right thing to do; he crossed the room and pulled Tyrell into a tight hug.

The taller man stilled for a second, before responding by wrapping his arms around Elliot's slight form. He rested his face against the crook of Elliot's shoulder, and took in a deep, shuddering breath. Elliot got the sense that Tyrell, like him, wasn't accustomed to being hugged. He suspected that touch was not something that Tyrell often associated with comfort or safety. But by the way he had completely relaxed into his arms, Elliot got the impression that it was something he very much craved.

If there was one thing Elliot had learned about Tyrell in their recent time together, it was that he was not the cold, heartless robot he wanted others to believe he was. Elliot was starting to suspect that Tyrell's bug was less about his arrogance, or hunger for power, and more about him being at odds with the part of himself that didn't allow for softness, or genuine affection, for fear of seeming weak.

Elliot hugged him harder, rubbing his back and murmuring comforting nothings.

'I don't understand Elliot. I don't understand. I don't understand. I can't-' Tyrell's words dissolved into tears once again, and Elliot brought a hand up to rest comfortingly in his soft hair.

They stayed like that for several long minutes, before Tyrell gently pulled away.

Wiping his face with his sleeve, his eyes were downcast as he mumbled, 'I'm sorry.'

'It's okay.' Elliot felt awkward again. What was he supposed to do now? He remembered the water, and picked it up to offer to Tyrell.

Once Tyrell had finished drinking, he took a deep breath to compose himself before echoing Elliot's thoughts.

'What do we do now?'

'I don't know. Maybe we should-'

'Stay, please. Don't go. I need you here, with me.' The hint of panic in his voice was back.

'It's okay, I'll stay,' Elliot offered, with a small, genuine (if awkward) smile.

They headed back downstairs, Elliot with the vague plan of getting Tyrell sat down, and organising some food for them.

As they passed a large mirror in one of the hallways however, something caught Elliot's eye.

His heart fluttering with anticipation, he pulled at the corner of something white that had been hidden behind the mirror. It was an envelope addressed to Tyrell.

He thrust it eagerly at Tyrell, who took it with shaking hands. He carefully pulled out the contents of the envelope, studied them, and wordlessly put them back in the envelope. Elliot stared, not breathing, and unable to read Tyrell's expression. He jumped when Tyrell let out a wounded yell, ripped the envelope in two, and swiped wildly, sending a nearby vase crashing into the wall. Breathing heavily he turned on his heel and strode away from Elliot.

Confused, and frightened by the outburst, Elliot picked up the remains of the envelope. Carefully he removed the contents, and pieced together the two halves.

It was a card, with a generic picture of a nice landscape. Opening it revealed just two words written in neat script:

'Happy Birthday'


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: So there's a little something in this chapter that a few people may have been waiting for... ;-)  
I'm still not sure if this is going in a Tyrelliot direction, but we'll see!  
Enjoy! :-)

Elliot decided it would probably be best to give Tyrell a few minutes to cool down. He knew it was selfish but he was worried about how this turn of events would hinder them. Before, he'd assumed that eventually they would get to the bottom of the missing three days in their memories. Now, he wasn't sure. Did it even matter though? He could just look at the facts - that the hack was successful - and move on with his life, as Darlene had suggested. But that overlooked one very important detail, one that Darlene didn't quite seem to comprehend the gravity of – someone knew that he and Tyrell were behind everything. Elliot wasn't comfortable with that, not at all. It was clear by now that this person wasn't going to turn them in, but knowing that someone out there had such evidence against them (and worst of all, was using this leverage to mess with their lives) made Elliot's palms sweat, and his stomach clench painfully.

Elliot didn't like that someone else had the upper hand. _He_ was the one that hacked people, and used what he learned about them to seek justice. Now he felt like he was getting a taste of his own medicine. But this wasn't justice. Instead of turning them in, someone was toying with them. How could they possibly live normal lives, with this lingering threat always present, like an ominous cloud on the horizon? How could Elliot try to have all the normal things in life- a family and friends- when they could be snatched away without warning? Fuck, he'd never seen a man look as devastated as Tyrell had; so absolutely and completely shattered. Elliot didn't like loneliness, but he think he'd rather that than feel the pain Tyrell was feeling now.

So now, where did this leave them? They needed to find who was behind this, and find Tyrell's family, before they had any hope of getting any answers of their own. Fuck. And right now, Tyrell was near-useless to Elliot. It frightened Elliot to watch him unravel in this way.

Elliot was starting to get a picture of the dynamic the Wellicks had. Though Tyrell undoubtedly had the intelligence and ambition to succeed, Elliot could see that Joanna helped to channel his focus, but at the same time took down the blinkers when he became too single-minded. She reined him in, and poured water on the heat of his intensity when he threatened to implode. She was ice to Tyrell's blazing fire, and Elliot could see how they were well-suited. He may have only met Joanna once (that he knew of), but like he'd always said, he was good at reading people.

Elliot worried that Tyrell would derail without her (or at least without knowing she was safe). Men like Tyrell, who wound themselves so tightly, needed an outlet. Elliot's had been morphine (now though, he wasn't so sure- caring for Flipper maybe?), and Tyrell's had been Joanna (and quite possibly some darker vices which Elliot didn't care to explore for the moment). Elliot reached the conclusion that to get through this, they were going to have to be each other's outlets. Tyrell could provide the companionship that Elliot needed, and Elliot, in return would keep him from self-destructing, and help him to find his release.

Elliot stifled a laugh at the bizarre image that floated into his head, of the two of them walking Flipper together, eating and talking, like some sort of dysfunctional caricature of a family. His stomach fluttered uneasily at the implications of this little scenario he'd created in his head, and the way he'd moulded himself to slot into the hole that Joanna had left behind. Fighting down further inappropriate thoughts about his relationship with Tyrell that threatened to surface, while telling himself that hunger and tiredness were to blame for his imagination running away with him, he started to make his way into the other room to find Tyrell. It would be fine, they would eat, calm down, and Elliot would shake off the delirious thoughts that were clouding his mind.

Elliot found Tyrell sitting dejectedly in the kitchen, drinking from a large bottle of vodka like it was water. Elliot gently removed the bottle from his grip, and sat next to him. Tyrell, seemingly needing something to hold to expel the restless energy in his fingers, grabbed Elliot's left hand and pressed it to his cheek. He let his eyes flutter shut, and took a few deep, calming breaths.

After several moments of silence he released Elliot's hand, cleared his throat, and opened his eyes.

'I apologise for my outburst earlier.' He let out a strange laugh that seemed forced, as if trying to disguise his true emotions. For the first time Elliot found his features impossible to read.

'That's okay,' Elliot considered his next words carefully, before a rumble in his stomach made his decision for him, 'shall we have some dinner?'

'I don't want to cook.' This took Elliot by surprise; he hadn't considered that Tyrell might be able to cook. For what felt like the millionth time Elliot found himself wondering about Tyrell's past – there was definitely a lot more to the man than it seemed. Elliot remembered their first conversation. Yes, Tyrell was definitely not from money. So much of his attitude and personality made more sense with this in mind. He was always fighting because he always felt he had to prove his place. But now everyone was equal. Elliot suspected this idea brought Tyrell more relief than it did him.

'That's okay, you don't have to. I would, but the best I can do is heat things up in the oven.'

'Um…' Tyrell smirked, raising a sceptical eyebrow, and they both laughed. Despite the situation it felt really good, and Elliot thought he could see some of the tension leaving Tyrell's body.

They settled on ordering in, and Tyrell put on some classical music while they ate. Elliot accepted the offer of some wine with the food, but only had a small glass. He needed to be able to think clearly. Tyrell on the other hand finished two large glasses. Not that it seemed to affect him, Elliot noted. He must have a high tolerance for alcohol.

After dinner they sat cross-legged on the living room floor. With the music still playing softly in the background, Elliot could honestly say he almost felt content. Despite the awful circumstances and the whirlwind of the last few days, this evening felt almost _nice_.

'I just wish I knew if they were safe,' Tyrell's voice broke through the pleasant haze in Elliot's mind.

'I'm sure they're okay. Why would whoever's doing this be messing with us if your family was already dead?' Elliot swallowed down feelings of guilt and remorse as he thought about Shayla. He'd been wrong about her, but Tyrell didn't need to know that he didn't fully believe his own words.

'I keep trying to figure out what the card means.'

'I take it they missed the big day then?' Elliot responded light-heartedly. Tyrell didn't appreciate the attempt at humour though.

'You know when my birthday is,' he snapped. Yes, Elliot did, and there was no way to pretend that the card wasn't some sort of hidden message. Elliot felt bad for trying to joke about such a serious situation.

'Elliot, I don't want to stay here tonight.'

'That's fine, we can go back to mine,' Elliot offered, knowing full well he didn't have a choice in the matter anyway. 'Besides, I need to take care of Flipper.' Whether he had told Tyrell the name of his dog at some point, or Tyrell didn't really care, Elliot wasn't sure. Tyrell just nodded in acknowledgement.

Elliot hovered nervously while he waited for Tyrell to pack up some things. A short while later Tyrell emerged showered and changed, with a large suitcase and a leather messenger back slung across his body. They shared an awkward taxi ride, during which Elliot stole a few concerned glances at Tyrell, who seemed to have retreated back into his dejected state.

Once they were safely in Elliot's apartment, Tyrell visibly slumped. Elliot thought it best to give him some space so took Flipper for a walk. When he came back, Tyrell was on his computer flicking through news reports, as well as the lyrics to 'Teddy Bears' Picnic' and '99 Red Balloons'. Frustrated, he closed his laptop with a sigh.

'I think I need to sleep.'

Elliot had to admit that sounded like a good plan, but fought Tyrell when he offered to take the sofa.

'I'll wake up in the night anyway, you might as well have the bed.'

Tyrell reluctantly agreed and shuffled off to get ready. He came back from the bathroom wearing loose sweatpants that hung off his hips, and a black V-neck tee.

'Goodnight Elliot.' Tyrell came to stand in front of him. He towered over Elliot, crowding his personal space in a way that Elliot was all-too familiar with by now. Before Elliot could register what was happening Tyrell had brought his left hand to rest on the side of his face, and stooped down to place a gentle kiss on Elliot's lips.

Elliot froze. It was a sweet kiss, soft and chaste. It felt nice, so Elliot closed his eyes. There was no heat behind it, and Elliot could feel it saying all the things Tyrell hadn't quite found the words to; the thank you's and apologies, and the ' _please_ keep me together'.

Tyrell pulled back after a few seconds. 'Sleep well,' he whispered with a smile, looking at Elliot with the same reverence he'd had in his eyes when he'd offered him the job at Evil Corp.

Elliot blinked in surprise. 'Uh, you too,' he mumbled weakly. Tyrell made his way over to the bed, and Elliot sat numbly on the sofa feeling confused. Tyrell was upset and quite frankly all over the place right now, and it had been yet another crazy day of nothing making sense. Maybe the alcohol had affected him more than Elliot realised. Or maybe goodnight kisses were a Swedish thing. Elliot had no idea, but didn't have much time to think about it as he quickly succumbed to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Alright, I tried to fight it, but I think this story is definitely Tyrelliot. Oops... ;-)  
This chapter heats up a little bit, enjoy!

Elliot woke up at around two. Groggily he blinked his eyes open slowly, trying to get his bearings. Why was he on his sofa? What had woken him up?

His question was soon answered when he heard laboured breathing coming from the other side of the room. _Tyrell!_ He jumped up from the sofa and ran over to where the other man was sleeping.

Elliot perched on the edge of the bed. Tyrell was obviously having a nightmare, his breath coming in short gasps, mingled with the occasional moan of pain.

Elliot didn't know what to do, so he smoothed the hair off Tyrell's sweaty forehead, and gently shook his arm with the other hand.

'Tyrell,' he whispered, then again more urgently when he got no response.

'Tyrell, come on. Please! Come on!'

Finally Tyrell's eyes flew open and he bolted upright, letting out the most awful noise Elliot thought he'd ever heard. It was somewhere between a sob, a gasp for breath, and a wail of pain.

His eyes darted around frantically, and he reached out with shaking hands to find something solid to hold on to. Elliot took his hands in his, and ducked his head to try and make eye contact with Tyrell. The other man was desperately trying to catch his breath, and seemed dizzy and disoriented.

'Tyrell, it's okay, it was a dream.' This was apparently the wrong thing to say, as Tyrell's breaths became shorter and sharper.

Elliot, unsure of what to say to someone who was hyperventilating, took one of his hands and placed it on Tyrell's firm, warm chest.

'Hey, come on now, breathe.' Tyrell seemed to be calming down, much to Elliot's relief, but he was still shaking and looking at him with large, terrified eyes.

'Just a nightmare,' Elliot soothed again. At that, Tyrell lurched forwards, pulling Elliot into his arms. Elliot took a few seconds to respond, but soon followed suit, rubbing Tyrell's back gently.

Elliot squeezed his eyes shut and released a breath he didn't realise he was holding, please that this horrid moment had passed.

Tyrell suddenly grabbed a fistful of Elliot's t-shirt, and moved his other hand up into Elliot's hair, tightening his grip on the smaller man to the point where it was almost uncomfortable. Tyrell's face was buried in Elliot's neck, and Elliot felt him gasp out a wet sob against his skin.

Elliot tried awkwardly to sway from side-to-side, in an attempt to comfort Tyrell who was now shaking as he cried brokenly in Elliot's arms.

'I-see-it. E-every-night. I can't-' he hiccupped desperately, trying to calm his breathing down.

'See what? Shh, it's alright,' he soothed.

'I d-didn't mean to- I never wanted- oh God. Please, please forgive me, _please._ ' He continued to repeat the last few words, like a prayer, and Elliot rocked them both harder, stroking Tyrell's hair as he did so.

By this point Elliot's mind was numb with panic. Nothing was calming Tyrell down, and he wanted him to stop crying so badly and just be okay. Elliot's own eyes started to fill with tears, and in a desperate move he did the only thing he could think to do.

He started kissing Tyrell's neck, gently at first, then more roughly, as he worked his way up to Tyrell's face. With quick, frantic movements he kissed the parts of Tyrell's face he could reach. It was wet and desperate, and they were both breathing raggedly, until Tyrell seem to snap out of his daze. Startled, he looked into Elliot's eyes for several seconds, as if trying to gauge the situation. Elliot met his stare with wide, uncertain eyes, before Tyrell sprang into action, crashing their lips together.

Elliot's mind, by this point, had decided that trying to keep up with the situation was a fool's errand, and instead, he acted on pure instinct. He kissed back, matching the pace and pressure of Tyrell's lips.

Their kiss earlier had been soft, gentle and chaste, but this one was anything but. It was fast, desperate and filled with need and longing (which, Elliot noted with surprise, came from both sides, not just Tyrell). It wasn't a nice kiss by any means. Elliot registered each sensation like a person waking from a long, deep sleep; moist skin-on-skin, salt-stained lips fighting for dominance, and the sizzle of emotions cracking through the air like a whip.

He felt Tyrell's tongue on his, and he responded by moving his own in time with the frantic pace they were setting. He tried and failed to suppress a low, guttural moan. This felt unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Tyrell's scent was woody and masculine, his mouth firm and strong, and his slender fingers were pulling at Elliot's hair and digging into his back. There was nothing gentle, or tender about this kiss, but Elliot could still feel the need and desire behind it.

Both of their moans echoed richly in the silence, along with their frantic gasps for air, and the wet sounds their lips made against each other.

Tyrell pulled away first, and they both struggled to catch their breath.

'I-I'm sorry,' Elliot stammered. 'I shouldn't have-' Tyrell cut him off by moving to stand, and unsteadily making his way to the bathroom. Elliot could hear him splashing water on his face and taking some deep breaths.

In the darkness, Elliot tried to compose himself as well, and ran through possible things to say when Tyrell returned. He was drawing a complete blank though, so was kind of relieved when Tyrell broke the silence first.

'I'm sorry,' he mumbled, unable to look Elliot in the eye. He didn't quite make it back to the bed before crumbling in on himself and sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. Elliot crouched in front of him but said nothing, sensing he should let Tyrell speak first.

'I have dreams every night. I see her face, feel her under me. Relive that moment, over and over.' He shuddered, and looked like he was about to gag.

What was he talking abou- oh! Oh God. Elliot felt a cold sweat prickle at the back of his neck.

'I'm not a bad person Elliot, I'm not!' He grabbed Elliot's hands desperately.

'Okay,' he said, at a loss as to what he could possibly say. What did he think of Tyrell? He'd realised long ago that he didn't believe Tyrell was a bad person. He did a terrible, unspeakable thing, which he'd clearly not forgiven himself for, and -Elliot felt certain- never would.

Elliot called his own morality into question. He'd never killed anyone, but a lot of his decisions were morally…grey, at best. In recent years the lines between good and bad had become blurred to him. He'd released a murderer from jail (along with hundreds of other dangerous criminals) for his own gain. He'd valued Shayla's life over all others and made a decision that day that he'd forever regret. What had given him the right to play God? He hadn't slit Shayla's throat. He wasn't directly responsible for anyone killed by the criminals he released, but he still felt their blood on his hands. Fear made people do terrible, disgusting things, and Elliot understood that more than most.

Tyrell was looking at him like his own sanity rested on Elliot's next words, so he chose them carefully.

'I know you're not. You're not bad.'

'I don't recognise who I am anymore, I despise the man I've become,' he spat angrily. 'This is my penance Elliot. I can repent, I can be forgiven,' he posed this last statement as a question.

Elliot didn't know about penance, not really sharing Tyrell's apparent belief in God, but he believed in second chances, and righting wrongs.

'Of course you can. This is a brand new world Tyrell. One _we_ made. We can rebuild ourselves too. Brand new.' Elliot moved to sit next to Tyrell, and put his arm around his shoulder. Tyrell rested his head on Elliot's shoulder, and Elliot placed a soft kiss in his hair.

'Brand new, Tyrell, we can be brand new.'


	10. Chapter 10

Elliot woke up again around ten. In contrast to earlier in the night, he felt calm, and his mind was pleasantly fuzzy. The apartment was still, the air pleasantly cool. Sunlight streamed in, and the buzz of New York City traffic washed over him soothingly.

He and Tyrell had fallen asleep not long after they finished their conversation. Tyrell had begun to dose still sitting on the floor, with his head resting on Elliot's shoulder, until Elliot had woken him up and moved him on to the bed. How Tyrell could even fall asleep in that position Elliot wasn't sure, but he knew they'd both regret it.

Strangely, given what they'd both just done, Elliot felt weird about staying in the bed with him. It felt presumptuous somehow. He didn't know how Tyrell felt about him. They'd kissed, sure, but Tyrell had been so distraught that he probably would have accepted comfort from anyone. _Maybe_ he was pretending Elliot was Joanna. For some reason though, Elliot's gut told him that wasn't true. He knew how _he_ had felt during the kiss, and it was impossible to believe that feeling was one-sided. The way Tyrell had moved, responded to him, moaned at his touch… that was hard to fake, and he didn't think Tyrell would bother trying to just for his sake.

Jesus, he was _married_ though. It seemed ludicrous to Elliot that after all his morally questionable decisions, _this_ one was really tripping him up. The brutally honest part of Elliot told him that his guilt was less about morality, and more about self-preservation; if he got attached to Tyrell, and Joanna came back, he would be alone and sad again. Best to just leave it alone altogether, the little voice inside him hissed.

Elliot ignored it though, and threw caution to the wind as he snuggled down beside Tyrell. The way he saw it they both craved comfort right now, so he wasn't going to deprive them of that. His decision was rewarded by a sleepy murmur from Tyrell, and an arm around his waist. The weight felt comforting, and reminded Elliot that he was real, and solid, while the warmth spreading in the pit of his stomach reminded him that he was alive. He smiled into the darkness.

Elliot remembered with a small laugh, the first time he'd had that arm around his waist. He was definitely finding out that Tyrell was a cuddler, and he found it endearing. No-one would guess it to look at him, and Elliot felt like it was a secret they were sharing. Careful not to wake him up, Elliot pressed a gentle kiss on Tyrell's forehead, and turned his body round slowly to face him. He watched the older man sleep, taking in his smooth, pale skin and the way the moonlight caught his hair and made it look silver. He looked at his lips, and remembered how soft they'd felt on his. As was becoming habit, he tenderly moved Tyrell's fringe away from where it fell into his eyes. Only after he was satisfied that Tyrell was sleeping calmly and peacefully had he allowed himself to fall into a warm, comfortable sleep.

Now, Elliot studied him again in the morning light. His hair was dishevelled by sleep, mouth parted slightly as he breathed softly. He was a lovely sight, Elliot thought to himself, as it struck him that Tyrell really was, rather beautiful. If Elliot thought about it hard enough, he supposed he could always remember feeling a certain sort of attraction to him. But it had been the sort of attraction you might feel towards a flame- you're drawn to it because something about it is compelling and mysterious, yet you keep away because instinctively you know it's dangerous. It was only in the last couple of days that Elliot had felt his attraction morph into a real connection. Perhaps it was seeing him at his most vulnerable, the weight of the secrets they shared, or simply being in such close quarters, but Elliot felt magnetically drawn to him.

He liked the way Tyrell moved, fluid and graceful. He liked his long, lean body and how he took care of his appearance. He liked his smile, the _genuine_ one, as rare as it was to see. And of course, he liked his eyes. How could anyone not? The bluest Elliot had ever seen, they were sharp, intelligent and expressive. Elliot had found them unsettling at first, but now he liked the feeling that Tyrell saw straight into him. They were the first thing Elliot had noticed about him (a first impression he was sure he shared with most people who met Tyrell) and they'd stayed in the back of his mind long after Tyrell had bid him a cheerful, 'bonsoir Elliot.' He kind of wished Tyrell would wake up so he could see them now.

He had liked how masculine Tyrell felt, but couldn't help but compare him to the women he'd been with. Male or female, it had never really mattered to Elliot though. People were like computers. Inside their shells they were all made up of the same components, their actions determined by lines of code. They had their bugs and their flaws, but everything and everyone had a fix, of that Elliot was sure. But this was the first time he had ever been with a man, and he found himself liking it. He liked that everything could be a little rougher, a little harder. He liked that Tyrell had felt bigger, more solid. He hoped very much that he would soon get the chance to make him come undone. He felt like it would be a challenge, but the reward would be beautiful. After seeing him fall apart in such a painful way, Elliot wanted to remind him that falling apart could be wonderful too.

He could feel himself start to heat up as he pondered what his name might sound like if Tyrell were to moan it in his ear. Was Tyrell as loud and expressive as he expected him to be? Would he swear…and if so, would he slip back into his natural tongue? Elliot hoped so.

He fought these thoughts away as he began to feel flustered. Something felt weird about imagining them having sex when they hadn't even discussed what had happened last night. Torn between not wanting to leave Tyrell, and needing a way to expel his anxious energy, Elliot finally settled on having a shower and getting dressed. Afterwards, he left a note by the bed, and ventured out to buy some breakfast for them, taking Flipper with him.

It had been a very long time since he'd made breakfast for someone, and he actually had no idea what Tyrell liked to eat. Again, he felt a jolt of excitement at the prospect of getting to know these details about him. After much indecision, he stopped at a little independent coffee shop he liked to go to, and picked up two large coffees, and a selection of pastries. In case Tyrell wanted something healthy he also grabbed juice and some fruit. Satisfied, he made his way back to the apartment.

Tyrell was still asleep so he slipped quietly over to the bed, coffee in hand, and kissed him lightly on the forehead. He stirred slightly and slowly opened his eyes.

'Good morning,' Elliot smiled. 'I bought breakfast.'

'Thanks,' Tyrell mumbled, not looking Elliot in the eyes.

The tension in the air was tangible, and Elliot shifted awkwardly on the bed.

'Um, so there's pastries, or-'

Tyrell reacted like Elliot had punched him, springing up from the bed angrily.

'So you want us to eat fucking croissants in bed together, like we're newlyweds? Is that it?! While my wife - _my wife,_ Elliot- is missing?!'

Elliot blinked, rooted to the spot. The only thought that forced its way out of his mouth was, Elliot soon found out, the wrong one. 'Last night we-'

'Last night was a _mistake._ I was weak and impulsive, it's won't happen again.'

'Okay,' Elliot mumbled, trying to hide the fact there were tears in his eyes. Tyrell appeared to be getting ready to leave.

'Tyrell, I'm sorry. Stay, we'll keep trying to figure things out together.'

'No, Elliot, I can't. I have to go.' He quickly gathered his things and was out of the apartment before Elliot could even say another word.

Only then did Elliot let his tears fall.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I'm sorry everyone! These chapters have been horrible to write, I really wanted them to just eat their pastries and live happily ever after! :-(  
But, things are going to get better for them, I promise!  
Hope you enjoy! :-)

Elliot felt awful. It had been six hours since Tyrell had stormed out, and pretty much all he'd managed to do was lie down and stare up at the ceiling. He'd taken Flipper for a quick walk, which he thought would make him feel better, but as soon as he was back in his apartment he felt completely drained again. His eyes felt hot and scratchy, like they had sand in them, and his stomach and head were aching in protestation of the fact he hadn't had any food or water all day.

Chewing sadly on one of the soggy pastries from breakfast, he tried to replay the morning's events in his head. He kicked himself for feeling so happy, so optimistic. He'd been stupid and naïve and he couldn't escape the fact that he needed to go and speak to Tyrell, and fix the mess he'd made. Slowly, as if he were wading through treacle, he got himself ready to leave, and made his way across town, trying to plan his words in his head.

Tyrell answered the door looking exhausted. He nodded for Elliot to come in and had already retreated back to the living room before Elliot had taken off his shoes.

'I spoke to the police today,' he started, without pre-amble. 'They've been trying to find me, and I assumed avoiding them couldn't work forever,' he finished with a mirthless chuckle.

Elliot felt a rush of blood to his head. 'What happened?'

'Nothing. I told them I talked to Sharon that night, but that she left early and I didn't see her after that. I put the inappropriate flirting down to, oh what was it…' he scoffed, '…oh yes, 'stresses at work and at home', coupled with a misguided sense of humour, and…' he laughed again, in that forced way of his, 'cultural differences.' I painted myself as weak and pathetic; I think I even won their sympathy. I played my part very well, Joanna would be proud.' He let out a sound that was a strange mix between a sob and a laugh, and put his face in his hands.

'So everything's going to be okay then?'

'If you call getting away with murder okay, then sure,' he laughed bitterly.

'For what it's worth I think you did the right thing.' There it was- that word again. 'Right.' Elliot's perceptions of right and wrong continued to blur, the line between them fluid and changeable. Even Elliot, objectively, could see that Tyrell hadn't done the right thing at all, but he couldn't make himself believe it. He saw something in Tyrell that made him think he deserved a second chance, and he didn't care that he was changing the parameters of morality to suit himself.

From what he'd learned about the murder investigation there was very little evidence of any kind to go on. Tyrell's involvement was suspicious, of course, but all the evidence against him was circumstantial. Nothing concrete put him at the scene. Elliot breathed out. If what Tyrell was saying was true, things might actually be alright.

Tyrell still had his head bowed, but appeared to be calm. Elliot reached out to touch his knee, and said, 'I'm really sorry about before. I shouldn't have presumed… and I shouldn't have taken advantage of you last night.'

Tyrell looked up at him with an unreadable expression. 'I really don't want to talk about this Elliot.'

'But you were upset and I-'

'What part of what I said was unclear?' He snapped with a dangerous look in his eyes. Elliot was momentarily stunned. Tyrell had never spoken to him like that before.

After several moments of prolonged, intense eye-contact, Elliot broke free and tried to change the subject.

'What happens when you call Joanna?'

'Excuse me?'

'I assume you've tried ringing her. What happens? Voicemail, long distance dial tone, st-'

'The number's no longer in service. I've called around, friends, anyone that might have seen her. No-one has.'

His sixth-sense telling him it was a dangerous topic, Elliot proceeded anyway. 'What about family?'

'Joanna is not in contact with her family.' His tone held a warning, so Elliot didn't ask for more information.

'What about you?'

'I have no family.' His tone was matter-of-fact, and his expression gave nothing away. Okay, so that was that.

Elliot suddenly had a thought, and leaped up from his seat, leaving Tyrell to stare on in confusion. He came back moments later, holding the pieces of the birthday card Tyrell had torn up.

Taking out the pieces he quickly spotted what he was looking for. 'Yes!' he couldn't stop from shouting triumphantly. He held it out for Tyrell to look at.

'© C. Rasmussen, _Oslo in Summer.' The name of the landscape on the front of the card._

Tyrell looked up at him blankly.

'Does the name mean anything to you?'

He raised his eyebrows incredulously. 'What, Rasmussen? Does the name Smith mean anything to you?' he retorted. Elliot chose to ignore his sarcasm.

'What about Oslo? Any significance?'

'I've been there once. I've only really spent a small amount of time in Norway. Joanna and I have never been together. I think her father used to travel there for business, if I remember correctly, but I don't know how that's relevant.'

'Maybe this is a clue. She could be there now!'

'And what am I supposed to do Elliot? Go to Oslo and look for her? It's not like I can tell the police about any of this.' He sighed wearily, his anger dissipating quickly.

He took a deep breath before continuing. 'Whoever is behind this is doing it to play some sort of game with us, correct?' Elliot nodded.

'So that means this is not the last we've heard from them. There will be more clues, and eventually, as is the way with games, I will either have to win or lose. So that's it. I wait. And pray for the dice to roll in my favour.'

Elliot couldn't really argue with that.

He looked at Tyrell carefully, but the other man was giving nothing away.

'Elliot, why are you here?'

 _Because you need me._ 'Because I thought we should talk.'

'I want to be alone.'

'But-'

'Kindly leave, Elliot.'

Elliot felt the coldness of his words wrap around his organs and clench painfully. Defeated, he made his way wordlessly back to the entryway. Tyrell didn't follow him.

A thousand voices screamed in his mind to go back, but he forced himself to ignore them and opened the front door. As he stepped out, Elliot felt his heart leap into his throat. By his feet was a box, beautifully wrapped in red paper, and a small silver bow.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I had a review from someone who had some queries about the way I've been portraying the world, given the economic melt-down.

I've struggled a bit with this, as I honestly have no idea what the world would look like in this situation. I reasoned that Elliot and Tyrell would have prepared for this and have a good supply of cash, and that taxis and fast food places would still be running (struggling perhaps, but running for the time being).  
With regards to the coffee shop Elliot goes to, in my head Elliot is deliriously happy at this point, so maybe he is seeing things through rose-coloured glasses, ie. what he sees - his favourite, quaint little coffee shop - might not be exactly what it seems.  
I'm sorry that I'm not going into much detail about the state of the world and the economic climate. This is for two reasons really: 1. I would have no idea where to start, or how to make it realistic, and 2. I really wanted this story more to focus on Tyrell and Elliot's relationship, and explore their characters in depth. Unfortunately this will probably make it less realistic/in keeping with the Mr Robot universe, but I hope it doesn't take away too much from the story.

Hope you're still enjoying it! Please feel free to leave feedback

Warning, this chapter gets a little smutty! I've never written smut before, so I hope it's alright… Enjoy ;-)

Elliot ran out onto the road, desperately looking around to see if he could spot the person who'd delivered the gift.

 _I've only been here a few minutes, how is this possible?_

His stomach churned as he realised whoever was doing this had to be watching them. Closely.

His hands shook and he desperately tried to stop the ringing in his ears that was making it impossible for him to concentrate.

Without further thought he grabbed the box and bolted back inside, slamming the door behind him and sucking in a few deep breaths.

'Tyrell!' he shouted frantically.

Tyrell came running out to where he had flopped against the wall, suddenly drained of all energy.

'Elliot, what's wro-' he started, the concern in his eyes quickly turning to fear as he spotted what Elliot was holding.

'I guess this is the next clue,' Tyrell gulped, aware that he should be happy, but instead feeling rooted to the spot in terror. Elliot knew Tyrell hated this feeling of complete powerlessness as much as he did.

'Yeah,' was all Elliot could muster breathlessly.

'So, I guess I should open it.' Still he took no steps towards Elliot, and looked like the last thing in the world he wanted was to know what was in that box.

'I-I could do it,' Elliot stammered, and Tyrell just nodded mutely.

Elliot unwrapped the box carefully, as a memory from his childhood filtered into his mind. He could just catch snippets of it; him slowly unwrapping a large box while Darlene shouted at him to hurry up and rip the paper off. His father had laughed. Elliot couldn't remember what was in that box, or even how old he was in the memory. He'd listened to Darlene though, ripping off the paper with joyful abandon. It was a happy memory. He wasn't going to do that now though. This was not an occasion for joy.

He could see Tyrell was holding his breath as he watched him open the box. Elliot could, for what felt like the thousandth time, almost _taste_ his disappointment. He pulled out the contents and handed them to Tyrell. His disappointment started to fade though, as a look of recognition entered Tyrell's face.

Tyrell looked down at the soft teddy-bear in his hands. Elliot could see tears in his eyes and the tension in his jaw as he fought to keep himself from sobbing out loud. He looked on, wanting to reach out and touch him, offer comfort, but he felt completely paralysed.

Tyrell was squeezing the bear now, knuckles white and forearms shaking, as his tears spilled over. After several long moments he snapped out of it with a gasp, and turned away from Elliot. Elliot too snapped out of his trance and moved forward to put his hand on Tyrell's shaking shoulder.

With alarm he suddenly realised that Tyrell was furiously digging his fingers into the bear, as if trying to rip a hole in the fabric.

'Tyrell, what are you doing?'

Tyrell didn't respond, and managed to rip a small hole in one of the seams of the bear. With one small, precise movement he extended the hole, and started to remove the stuffing.

Elliot moved round to stand in front of Tyrell, but his hair had fallen forward so Elliot couldn't see his face.

Within seconds Tyrell had removed most of the bear's stuffing, strewing it carelessly on the floor. He put his hand in again, but this time stilled as if he had found something. He straightened to look at Elliot, his eyes wide and scared.

'What is it?'

He slowly pulled his hand out, but Elliot couldn't see what he was holding in his clenched fist.

Tyrell squeezed his eyes shut, simultaneously dropping what he was holding, and stepping back from it, as if it had burnt him. He stumbled to find something to grab hold of, as Elliot bent down to pick up the item.

Elliot studied it and saw that it was a small roll of paper tied with string. Attached to one end of the string was - _oh. Shit -_ a small white gold wedding band.

'I'm so sorry, I-' Elliot started, his eyes wide and full of sympathy.

'She can't be...I don't un-'

'Read the note,' Elliot said gently, holding it out to him.

Tyrell accepted it with a nod and gently untied the piece of string, putting it in his pocket. He unfurled the note and began to read. It was fairly long, and Tyrell seemed to need to re-read it once he was done. After a while Elliot couldn't tell if he was still reading, or just staring at the paper. Again, with his head bowed and his fringe covering his eyes, Elliot had no way of seeing the expression on his face. After an excruciating amount of time had passed Tyrell carefully folded up the note and put it in his pocket to join the ring.

He looked up and Elliot was finally able to see his face. There was a storm raging behind his light eyes and it seemed to be taking every ounce of his strength to keep himself still. Elliot could see his jaw grinding, and the trembling in his hands he was fighting to control. In the silence he could almost hear the thrum of Tyrell's heart, and he was acutely aware of his own pulse skittering like the wings of a hummingbird.

They were both locked in the moment, Tyrell battling to hold in a violent torrent of emotions, and Elliot desperately trying to decipher the look on his face and the physical tics that threatened to overthrow him. Elliot felt electricity crackling through the air, and feared that any small movement would send them both up in flames.

Tyrell's look suddenly changed into one of fierce determination, and the way he was staring made Elliot feel like a mouse being sized up by its prey. Tyrell's eyes slid down Elliot's body, then snapped back up to his face.

A sudden movement from Tyrell broke the spell, and to Elliot it felt like all the air was suddenly rushing back into the room. His senses returned to him with overwhelming clarity, as if someone was yanking him out from under water.

He felt himself being slammed against the wall behind him, and had braced himself for a blow to the face, when he felt Tyrell's lips against his. In surprise he pushed Tyrell away, and tried to get a read of his face. His mask was long gone, whatever was in that letter had ripped it from his face and torn it to pieces. Elliot could see Tyrell clinging to the shreds of it as he continued to fight for dominance over his features, but it was no use.

With a guttural moan of longing he lunged forward again, capturing Elliot's lips with his own. The heat of his mouth felt as if it was branding Elliot's skin as he left a trail of messy kisses along his neck. Elliot moaned involuntarily as he felt Tyrell's hands under his shirt. Tyrell stilled momentarily as if seeking permission silently.

'Yes, yes,' Elliot whispered like a mantra, and Tyrell continued his blazing path along Elliot's body. One hand was digging its fingernails into Elliot's chest, and the other had moved to fist his hair. Lips continued to suck and kiss Elliot's neck.

For Elliot the pace was already dizzying, so when Tyrell pressed himself roughly against him, Elliot felt as if the wind was being crushed out of him.

None-too-gently, Tyrell pushed his leg between Elliot's. The smaller man groaned, long and deep, as he bucked his hips to rub his aching cock against Tyrell's firm thigh.

'I need you Elliot,' Tyrell groaned hoarsely in his ear, and it sent a jolt of arousal through him. They continued to grind against each other, kissing fast and messily, the sounds of wet lips, desperate friction and unashamed moans filling the air.

Elliot was starting to feel breathless, so he took his mouth off Tyrell's, and shifted so he was breathing moistly and raggedly into Tyrell's ear. The sound made Tyrell shiver, and he looked at Elliot deliriously, lust clouding his eyes. Still grinding against Tyrell, Elliot pulled the taller man even closer so their bodies were completely pressed together. One hand was snaking its way into the waistband of Tyrell's trousers, while the other grabbed roughly at his hair.

Before Tyrell could register what was happening, Elliot had flipped them so that it was now Tyrell who had his back against the wall. He slammed forcefully into Tyrell, mirroring how they'd been positioned a moment ago. Desire blazed in Tyrell's eyes, and the shift in dominance seemed to be sending him over the edge. Elliot had never been looked at with so much hunger before, and he shivered with anticipation. Tyrell stood panting before him, his hair swept messily across his sweaty forehead and an almost unhealthy flush colouring his cheeks. Elliot felt desire surge through him once more.

Sensing that Tyrell wanted to be dominated Elliot grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the wall. Tyrell gasped, and swore loudly in Swedish. Elliot swallowed his sounds with another kiss, rough and needy, and Tyrell thrust wildly against Elliot's leg. He was desperate for release; Elliot could see the need winding tightly inside him like a coil. He released one of Tyrell's hands and used his own to palm Tyrell's cock through his trousers. Tyrell moaned so loudly it echoed, and his breath was coming in stuttering gasps. Elliot slipped his hand under the waistband of Tyrell's boxers, and the older man hissed sharply as he let his head fall back against the wall.

Elliot, despite the awkward angle, managed to grip Tyrell's cock, and he started to stroke slowly. Tyrell cursed some more, and his breathy moans were almost enough to send Elliot over the edge. Tyrell was coming un-done, and seeing him like this was as beautiful as Elliot had hoped for. As he had predicted, Tyrell was extremely vocal, and his moans, gasps and cursing sent Elliot's desire soaring to levels he'd never experienced before.

All of a sudden, Tyrell seemed to choke and struggle to catch his breath and Elliot stopped abruptly and looked up with concern. Tyrell's eyes flowed over with tears, and he squirmed away from Elliot's gaze in embarrassment.

'Hey, hey, Ty' Elliot pressed a hand to Tyrell's cheek, 'we can stop, it's okay. Do you need to-'

'No, no, no' Tyrell breathed out, shaking his head vehemently. 'I'm okay.'

Elliot stared a moment longer into his eyes, trying to ascertain that the other man wasn't lying. He didn't have long to think though, as Tyrell leant down to kiss him again.

Elliot quickly built the pace back up, until he could feel Tyrell nearing the edge of his release. He recaptured one of Tyrell's wrists and pinned it against the wall, while kissing Tyrell so forcefully it left them both breathless. Tyrell's moans became louder, and more frequent, and he started to clench and squirm beneath Elliot. Elliot kept him pinned to the wall though, and moments later Tyrell was groaning his release into Elliot's mouth.

Elliot fell against Tyrell and they both slumped against the wall; Tyrell utterly spent, and Elliot pulsating with arousal.

Eventually Tyrell seemed to recover, and breathed out another shaky curse word. Elliot laughed, a delirious giggle bubbling up deep inside him, until a look from Tyrell stopped him in his tracks. Looking thoroughly dishevelled, he said in a low, gravelly voice,

'Elliot, I'm going to need to take you to bed.'


	13. Chapter 13

They came apart, sweating and panting hard. Tyrell slung his arm around Elliot's shoulder and pulled him close, as they both fought to catch their breath.

'Are you okay?' Tyrell asked him, and Elliot nodded enthusiastically. If truth be told he was better than okay. Tyrell had led him up to the bedroom and asked him to close his eyes. Elliot had felt his trousers being slid gently off his hips, and soft kisses being placed along his thighs. Tyrell, without warning, had taken his entire length in his mouth and started to suck a gentle rhythm that was completely intoxicating. Elliot had hissed and arched his back off the bed, which made Tyrell smile around him.

The pace had steadily picked up until Elliot felt like he might lose his mind, his hands scratching at Tyrell's scalp desperately.

'Stop,' he'd eventually groaned, when he realised he wasn't going to last much longer. Tyrell had been confused, but Elliot was quick to explain.

'I want to fuck you.'

The look of hunger was back in Tyrell's eyes, as he kissed Elliot passionately. Elliot had been anxious about the sex itself, but Tyrell had guided him. There had been a few stops and starts as Elliot was concerned about hurting Tyrell, but by the end he had relaxed into it, and they'd established a hard and fast rhythm. When Elliot had felt a bit more daring he'd taken Tyrell's hands and pinned them to the bed, remembering how turned on Tyrell had been when he'd restrained him earlier. As before, he'd been rewarded with a long, loud moan of pleasure.

'That feels so good Elliot,' Tyrell had gasped.

Elliot had found it felt so natural, and his release had been intense. During the final moments, Tyrell had moaned his name, long, and reverently. Not only did it feel wonderfully intimate, it reminded Elliot that what was happening was very much real.

Now, lying in Tyrell's arms he hoped the other man felt the same, and that he'd been granted some temporary relief from the pain the evening had brought him. Elliot wasn't normally a big fan of post-coital touching, but he experimentally traced gentle patterns on Tyrell's pale skin. Elliot watched him closely, noting the spots where he was ticklish, and the spots that made him shiver with pleasure and come out in goose-bumps.

Elliot knew this moment of peace wouldn't last forever though. He'd had it in the back of his mind that the events of the evening would come crashing back down on Tyrell, and he was dreading it. He was just glad that he'd been able to make him feel good, if only for a short time.

They showered and got ready for bed together, but their movements had been mechanical, and the silence uncomfortable.

'Are you okay?' Elliot gently asked when they got back to bed. Tyrell put his arm around Elliot again, but he felt tense.

Tyrell nodded but kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

'Do you want to talk?' Elliot offered awkwardly. Tyrell shook his head. After a few moments of silence he gently removed his arm and turned away from Elliot.

Elliot could tell he was trying to hide the fact that he was crying, but the gentle shaking of his shoulders, and occasional sniff betrayed him. He had no idea what was going through Tyrell's mind, and he couldn't even imagine how he was feeling, especially as he didn't know what was in that note.

He had to assume Joanna was safe, but the whole situation was so confusing. Who was sending these clues, and what did they want with Tyrell's wife? It seemed they were trying to destroy Tyrell's life, but why not Elliot's as well? Elliot felt guilty. Then plan had been Elliot's, so why was Tyrell taking the fall? Unless he'd been more involved than Elliot had previously realised – who knew what Elliot was forgetting? If they were threatening Tyrell, they obviously feared he had some sort of knowledge or influence that could harm… what exactly? Whose side were these people on? Tyrell must hold some sort of key to something, but what? None of this made any sense; there were too many gaps in his memory. His head was starting to hurt again and he closed his eyes briefly.

He didn't know whether to try and comfort Tyrell. He was still facing the other way, and had curled in on himself. Elliot place a tentative hand on his shoulder, and when it wasn't rejected, turned to tuck in next to him and wrap an arm around his waist. Tyrell put his hand on top of Elliot's and squeezed gently. Elliot took that as an invitation to snuggle in closer, placing soft kisses along Tyrell's spine.

They stayed like this for quite some time until Tyrell's tears subsided. Elliot carefully leaned over to check on him and found with relief that he was sleeping. He stroked his hand through Tyrell's hair and kissed his temple gently. Even sleeping he still looked sad, his cheeks tear-stained and blotchy and mouth turned down slightly. Elliot felt a rush of protectiveness, quickly followed by anger. What the fuck had been in that letter?

He considered reading it, but quickly dismissed the idea, feeling guilty. Deciding there was nothing he could do until the morning, he shut his eyes and waited for sleep to come.

Tyrell woke up first, with dry eyes and a pounding headache. Leaving Elliot to sleep a while longer, he shuffled off to have a shower. When this didn't help, he made his way downstairs for some water, popping a couple of painkillers as well. He gingerly took a seat at the table and rested his head in his hands.

That's how Elliot found him a little while later. 'Morning,' he said sheepishly. 'You should have woken me up.'

Tyrell looked up blearily. His hair was slightly damp and mussed from the shower, fringe sweeping across his forehead, and he was wearing a soft black jumper. He looked beautiful, but lost, and Elliot wanted to put his arms around him and kiss him, if only to distract him for a second. Instead he took a seat opposite him.

'There was no need to, you were fast asleep.' Tyrell said matter-of-factly.

'Are you alright?'

'Just a headache, nothing serious.' The mood was inexplicably tense, and Tyrell was cold and closed-off.

'Tyrell, what was in the note?' Elliot asked softly, decided there was no point beating around the bush.

Tyrell ran his hands roughly through his hair and took a deep breath. 'Be my guest, Elliot.' He walked off to retrieve the note and silently put it in front of Elliot.

Elliot nervously unfolded it, and read over the words several times, willing them to make sense.

When he'd finished he was at a complete loss as to what to say.

'She's safe, that's the important thing.'

'So you missed the bit that said I will never see her again?' he shouted, jumping to his feet and slamming his hands on the table. 'Or the part that said she'll be in danger if I even _think_ of trying to find her? Or maybe you're missing that this means I can never see my son. I don't even know his NAME Elliot! How am I supposed to accept this, how Elliot, HOW?' he roared, his voice cracking and eyes impossibly wide with fury. Elliot shrunk back, wrapping his arms around himself as if protecting himself from the rage-filled torrent of Tyrell's words.

'And perhaps you didn't realise that I bought that fucking bear the day Joanna told me she was pregnant. That I wanted it to be the first gift for our baby. Did you know that Elliot? Did you?!'

 _Fuck._ Elliot flinched like he'd been slapped. Of course he hadn't known that, but Tyrell wasn't thinking clearly by this point.

Tyrell seemed to realise what he'd said, and turned away to hide his face.

'Tyrell, I-' Elliot started hoarsely.

The other man seemed to snap straight back into his anger, as he swung back round to face Elliot.

'No, Elliot, you listen to me. Do you remember what I did after I received this news? This devastating, life-altering news? I asked you to fuck me.' He laughed, an angry, bitter laugh. He had a crazy look in his eyes that made Elliot shiver. 'That's right Elliot, I took you up to the bed I share with my wife, and. Had. You. Fuck. Me.' He spat the words viciously.

'I'm so sorry,' Elliot stammered, his eyes wide with guilt. 'I thought you wanted… I shouldn't have-'

'It's not you Elliot. I'm not angry at you. You asked me, and I wanted it. I _wanted_ it,' he spat, looking as if he might be sick.

 _Oh._

'What the fuck is wrong with me? What kind of person am I?!' His anger seemed to leave him, and he deflated visibly, slumping forward and resting his head back in his hands. 'I'm not angry at you Elliot,' he whispered.

'I know. I'm still sorry though.'

Tyrell nodded mutely into his hands. Elliot moved round to his side of the table and put his arm around him.

'Tyrell, I don't think they'd hurt her. That's not what any of this is about, it can't be. This has all been a game to them; if they wanted any of us dead I'm fairly certain we'd be dead by now. I think this is some sort of test, or a way to keep us under their thumb.'

'Why though?'

'I have no idea. But my point is we have to keep trying to figure this out.' Elliot rubbed his arm comfortingly. Tyrell kept his head bowed but he nodded.

'Okay. Can I use your laptop?'

Tyrell nodded again.

Elliot didn't bother with the pretence of asking for Tyrell's password, it would have been insulting to both of them. He opened a browser window and mentally made a list of the all the facts and disjointed clues they'd discovered so far.

Deciding that the birthday card was more significant than they'd given it credit for, he typed the word 'Oslo' into the search bar.

He scanned the Wikipedia entry, and had a brief look at the tourist board website, before deciding this was a waste of time.

Going on a hunch he typed 'Norway + Evil Corp'. An image caught his eye and he clicked on it excitedly. It was picture of a group of men in suits shaking hands outside a modern-looking office block. It was captioned 'Evil Corp investors' meeting, July 2002'.

'Tyrell,' he jabbed him in the arm, 'take a look at this.'

Before Tyrell could get a look at the photo an error message filled the screen, and the laptop shut down. Moments later they were plunged into darkness as the power went out.

'What the fuck?' Elliot exclaimed as he tried to power the laptop back up, while Tyrell leapt into action, presumably to find some kind of light source.

Both stopped dead in their tracks when they heard a knock on the door.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Finally, we start to get some answers! The next two chapters were the hardest to write, and I hope I haven't left any gaping plot holes... :-S Please let me know if anything doesn't make sense, or if you have any questions!**

 **I hope that you enjoy the direction I've taken the story in, there's still going to be plenty more. :-)**

 **As always, please feel free to leave feedback!**

Their breaths echoed in the darkness. Elliot started to move but Tyrell grabbed him sharply by the arm. 'Wait,' he hissed.

A few seconds later there was another knock on the door, followed by three more in rapid succession.

'They know we're here Tyrell, what's the point in hiding?'

Elliot broke free of Tyrell's grasp and started to make his way to the door. Tyrell swore and ran after him. Once they reached the hallway they paused, and Elliot squeezed Tyrell's forearm in support. More confidently than he felt, he strode towards the door and swung it open to reveal two men in suits.

 _Oh you have got to be kidding me. This is getting old._

'Sir, you both need to come with us.'

Both men realised there was no point resisting, so wordlessly they followed the men in suits out into a waiting town car.

The journey was silent and tense. Elliot kept stealing glances at Tyrell. The mask was on and he was doing his utmost to appear calm and confident, but Elliot could tell by the slight facial tics he'd come to know very well, that Tyrell was anything but. Silently he tried to communicate to him that everything was going to be alright.

They pulled up outside a deserted warehouse. Silently they were led inside, and taken down a narrow corridor until they reached a door.

'Only Mr Wellick from here,' the larger of the two men in suits ordered. Elliot turned, wide-eyed to Tyrell, who just gave him a curt nod of reassurance. Elliot was offered a seat, and Tyrell was led through the doorway.

In stark contrast to the derelict appearance of the rest of the building, the room Tyrell was taken into was large and grand. A long banquet table was laid out, and the room was lit by candelabras, and filled with flowers. A string quartet played in the corner. Tyrell felt nauseated as he took in the people sitting around the table. Each one was dressed in black-tie finery, but wore the head of a teddy-bear costume. Tyrell looked into their black, dead eyes and felt dizzy.

He was sat down and poured a cup of tea in a delicate china tea-cup. Suddenly feeling overwhelmed with rage he stood up, swiping his hand and sending the tea-cup flying across the room and smashing against the floor. 'What the fuck is this?' he yelled, not caring that his composure was slipping.

The man sitting at the head of the table spoke.

'My, my, Tyrell, you do have a flair for the dramatics. That temper of yours always was your undoing.' Tyrell forced himself to take some calming breaths.

'But I have to say, we are all very impressed with you. This was not quite how we planned to do this, but our fun had to end sometime. Everybody, please give our esteemed guest a round of applause.'

Clapping filled the air. Someone next to him patted him on the shoulder and whispered, 'bravo'.

'Now I expect you want answers. We are deeply sorry that we had to keep you in the dark for so long, but we had to make sure you didn't do anything reckless. Nothing keeps people more obedient that fear, isn't that right Tyrell? And we needed you to be obedient.'

'Where's my wife? What have you done with her?'

'Patience Mr Wellick, we will get to that, but please rest assured she is safe.'

He cleared his throat and continued. 'The chaos you have unleashed on the world has been planned for many years. You might think it was your friend that did this, but these cogs have been turning long before your little society was formed. You were carefully chosen for this Tyrell and nothing has made us happier than seeing you fulfil your destiny.'

'Who the fuck are you?!'

The man at the head of the table leaned in to whisper to the person next to him. They both nodded, and the man turned back to Tyrell.

'I think you've earned the right to know who's been pulling your strings.' He slowly took of the bear head.

Tyrell let out an audible gasp as the man underneath the costume revealed himself to be Phillip Price.

'Now Tyrell, I appreciate you must be confused, so please bear with me as I explain. We-'

'What does E Corp possibly have to gain from this?' Tyrell interrupted.

'Oh now,' he chuckled, 'you can't expect me to tell you that, surely? You are just a foot soldier! All you need to know is you made us proud. Well done.'

They burst into a round of applause again. Tyrell's skin crawled.

'It became clear that we needed someone on the inside. A pawn. Someone who had the technical know-how, but could be manipulated easily. Someone inconsequential.'

'I was a VP at that company!'

'Oh, sweet boy. Did you think you'd earned your position? You were competent, of course, but you got to where you were because we placed you there. How else would an outsider, with no wealth or influence climb the ranks so quickly?' he laughed.

'I must admit, there were things even we couldn't foresee. When your friend formed his little society we couldn't believe our luck - there it was, on a silver platter, a way to fast-track our plan. Though I must admit, we might have had a small helping hand in that one too.' Seeing Tyrell's look of betrayal he hastily added, 'Oh no, don't get me wrong, fsociety was all Elliot's doing, but we certainly might have given him a few nudges, opened a few doors for him, if you catch my drift.' Tyrell didn't, but Mr Price continued regardless. 'We couldn't have imagined how successfully things would go, and how fast! It was all very _serendipitous,_ as you like to say.' He smiled a sickening Cheshire-cat like grin and Tyrell fought the urge to look away.

'So we adapted, used the situation to our advantage. What kind of business-men would we be if we didn't? You didn't always make it easy for us though. You threw us quite the curveball when you got mixed up in that awful business with Sharon Knowles. You almost derailed the whole operation, but luckily we were able to make that go away. I understand you've since given the police quite a show, so I suspect you won't have any more trouble there,' he winked at Tyrell. 'But then, it all worked out rather nicely anyway – we were able to fire you, and that set in motion the final phase of our plan.'

Phillip paused, seemingly deep in thought, before shaking his head sadly.

'Oh Tyrell,' he tutted, 'it was heart-breaking to see you unravel in quite the spectacular way you did. It took a lot of work, from all of us, to keep you on track, keep you protected. But then we knew going in how unstable you could be, so that was our risk to take. We hoped you would be worth it, and I'm delighted to say you were' he smiled again.

Tyrell shuddered. What the fuck did that mean? What did they think they knew about him? He struggled to fight a wave of nausea, and calm his breathing. He wished Elliot was in here with him, as he wasn't convinced any of this was really happening.

'The hack went off exactly as we'd hoped, but we couldn't have you running off and doing something stupid, so we had to intervene. We've been keeping a watchful eye on you ever since, I have to say it's been quite entertaining.' Tyrell clenched his fists at his side.

'Please, don't be angry. We were so pleased with you when the hack went off smoothly that we wanted to tell you straight away, but you were in no fit state. We thought you'd lost your mind Tyrell! It seemed kinder to keep you sedated, and that little window of time was just what we needed to get the rest of our affairs in order. The only logical choice once everything was in place was to reunite you with Mr Alderson. It was so perfect, really- he was in worse shape than you! Running all over town trying to find you, it was adorable. Watching the two of you stumble around in the mess you'd made was quite fun, I must admit.'

Tyrell snarled angrily under his breath.

'Since then we monitored you until you were stable enough to learn the truth about how valuable you really were. Though I must say you kind of forced our hand tonight. Elliot came very close to stumbling on something vital, and we realised we couldn't put this meeting off any longer. You _do_ work well together Tyrell; I have to admit your instincts about Mr Alderson were spot on.'

'If you were worried about me ruining everything, why didn't you just have me killed, surely that would have been easier?! I was _inconsequential_ after all!' he spat. 'Why resort to cryptic threats and ridiculous riddles?'

'We never wanted to harm you Tyrell, we're not monsters!' he gasped in mock-horror. 'With regards to the riddles, I have to admit, that was a little stroke of brilliance I cannot take credit for. A colleague of mine thought it would be more fun this way, and I have to agree. As you can probably tell, we do have a penchant for the theatrical,' he laughed. 'But we were prepared to take more drastic measures if the situation had demanded it.'

Tyrell swayed on the spot, but was determined, as a matter of pride, to stay standing.

'What does my wife have to do with all of this? Why have you taken her?'

'Well, Mr Wellick, I think you'd better ask her that yourself, don't you?'


	15. Chapter 15

**Another rough chapter for poor Tyrell, but it will start to get better soon, promise!**

 **Hope you enjoy :-)**

Tyrell felt as if he was processing things at half-speed as he watched the person sitting next to Phillip take off her bear head.

Joanna turned to him and said, 'I'm sorry it had to be this way Tyrell.'

'What the fuck is going on Joanna?' he shouted in Swedish.

'Now, now, in English please, so we can all understand,' Phillip tutted, and the group laughed.

'Joanna has been the key to our entire plan,' he continued.

At this, Tyrell broke. 'Please, can you just explain what the hell is going on?' he begged, with tears in his eyes.

'Oh, Joanna's been a wonderful addition to our team, haven't you darling?' he smiled a slimy, fox-like grin at Joanna, who gave a forced smile in return.

'Thirteen years ago I met with one of our associates in Norway. It seemed he shared my vision of the future, and agreed that we needed a man on the inside. I told him that we had our eye on a brilliant young programmer in Sweden. He told me he had a way of getting him on board. See, it wasn't enough to get him working for us, we needed someone else who would be able to keep him from straying from our plan, who could gently guide him into making the right decisions. What's that expression, behind every great man is a great woman? Well, he said he happened to know a great woman; his lovely daughter Joanna. It was a match made in heaven, so we made it so. Joanna was given her instructions, compensated generously, and the rest, as they say, is history!'

'It turns out she has a true gift for manipulation, especially where you are concerned. She encouraged you when you needed it, sacrificed without question to protect you, and rejected you at the point when she knew it would push you into the final stage of our plan. And best of all, just as we wanted, she kept you under the illusion that you were making your own decisions, that you had free will.'

At this revelation Tyrell's resolve broke. He stumbled into his seat and gripped the edges of the table with white-knuckled hands.

Seeing his distress, Joanna interrupted, 'Phillip, I'd like a moment alone with my husband.'

'Now Joanna, that wasn't-'

'I don't give a shit what we discussed, you will do what I ask!' she hissed venomously.

'As you wish,' Phillip conceded.

Joanna beckoned to Tyrell and he followed her into an adjoining room.

As soon as the door was closed Tyrell gripped her hands desperately. 'Joanna, please tell me what's going on. None of this makes any sense,' he reverted back to his native tongue.

'I'm so sorry that you've been blindsided like this. I had hoped that my clues would give you some hint of my involvement, but sadly not. This was handled all wrong, I'm very disappointed with Phillip.'

' _Your_ clues?'

'I thought they were obvious! The birthday card you obviously figured out, or at least Elliot did. The 'happy birthday' was supposed to symbolize the dawn of your new life. I thought it was poetic, but you know that was never my strong suit,' she laughed sadly. Tyrell didn't.

'What did you think of the bear?'

Tears filled Tyrell's eyes, and he cleared his throat to try and regain his composure. 'I thought whoever was holding you captive was telling me I would never see our son again.'

'Well I suppose that's effective enough. But you were supposed to realise that it had come from me. I wanted you to believe I was rejecting you as the father of our child, that you had no place in our family. That you had failed me and the ultimatum I gave you.'

Tyrell held back a sob. 'Why were you so determined to break my heart Joanna?' he whispered.

'Because I wanted you to hate me! I wanted you to move on. It wasn't fair to give you hope. I didn't think they were going to let me see you again, at least not this soon. It was better that you be realistic about our future.'

'But I don't understand the note. Why not just tell me what was happening, instead of filling it with more threats and misdirection? Of course I wouldn't realise the bear was from you when the note made it look like it wasn't!'

'What note Tyrell?'

'The one inside the bear, with your wedding ring tied to it!' he shouted angrily.

'I didn't put a note inside the bear, that would have been against the rules.'

Tyrell's head spun with confusion, but he knew had to try and focus right now.

'What rules? I thought you were behind this!'

'Oh Tyrell, there is so much going on that you don't even understand. My situation is more complex than you realise. I have had rules to follow just as much as you have,' she sighed.

'Phillip liked my idea to send you clues. He thought it would be fun to toy with you, and that fear would stop you from doing anything rash. But I wasn't allowed to risk giving anything away. I hoped I'd been clever enough, that you might find the hidden meaning in the clues. I wanted you to suspect I was involved. You weren't supposed to find out like this,' she finished sadly.

Tyrell bowed his head, and Joanna rested a hand on his cheek. Tyrell snapped his head back so fast he felt as if his neck might break. He could have sworn he saw a flash of hurt cross Joanna's face.

'Why did you do it Joanna? Why did you trick me into this life with you?'

'Tyrell, you know what my life was like before we met. My father saw it as a way of securing me the best possible future. At the time I didn't see another way out.'

He looked so devastated as he asked his next question that Joanna's heart broke for him. 'Why did you have my baby?'

Joanna bowed her head, 'I gave up thirteen years of my life for this Tyrell. I needed to get something out of this arrangement too,' she whispered.

'Did you ever love me?' he asked shakily.

'I grew to love you, of course I did. I care deeply for you Tyrell, please don't doubt that.'

He barked out a harsh laugh.

'Please believe me,' she begged.

'I'm not sure I can.'

'Did you figure out the balloons?' she asked him softly.

Tyrell shook his head numbly, as he continued to battle to keep his tears at bay.

'Do you remember the first birthday you celebrated when we were together?' He nodded. 'I asked you what your best birthday had been, and you told me about the time when you were eight years old, and your father filled your bedroom with balloons. You said nothing in your life up until that point had been so magical. It was probably the first time I'd seen you look truly happy, and I think it was the moment I started love you.'

Her eyes started to fill with tears, 'I could finally see the little boy that lived inside this damaged man, the little glimmer of happiness that life forced you to lock away deep inside you.'

Her words had stripped away the last of his control, and he was crying now. Joanna tentatively moved to wrap her arms around him. This time, he didn't stop her, and she enveloped him in a gentle hug, whispering words of comfort in his ear as she did so.

She eventually pulled away. 'We don't have much time.'

'What will happen to you now?'

'I've played my part and I can go on and live my life now. I pray that you will do the same Tyrell.'

'Will I ever see my son?'

Joanna smiled, 'Of course you will. I've been telling him all about you, and what a great father you will be. I will call you soon, and we will make arrangements. I promise.'

He nodded, seemingly reassured, but still looked uncertain about something.

Instinctively, Joanna took his hand and said gently, 'you _will_ be a good father. You're a good man Tyrell, life has just forced you down some strange paths. You've always been so full of fear and doubt, and I never fully understood why. I think it hardened you and led you to make bad decisions, but fear is not all you are – you're so much stronger than that. I remember the kind, shy man I met thirteen years ago, the one that was so full of promise. I know he's still inside you. I hope that you can finally be free of your troubles Tyrell, you always did yourself such a disservice by letting your demons define you.'

Tyrell stood in shock; he wasn't accustomed to hearing such kind words about himself. It was everything he'd needed to hear for such a long time and he shook with relief. Overwhelmed, he bent down to place a small kiss on Joanna's lips. She opened her eyes with surprise, but quickly reciprocated. It was tender and loving, but without agenda or expectations. It was a thank you and farewell, but nothing more.

One of the men in suits came in to tell them their time was up. He took Tyrell by the arm and started to guide him back towards the door.

'Tyrell,' Joanna called out, and he turned. 'I called him Otto. After your father.' Tyrell smiled at her sadly, and she softly blew him a kiss.

Back in the large room, Phillip addressed Tyrell once more.

'I trust you have a clearer understanding of why we did what we did.'

Tyrell said nothing.

'We are very sorry you and Joanna had to sacrifice what you did, but please know that we appreciate your service. You are free to go, and will never need to hear from us again as long as you protect the secrets you have learned today. I trust you have made the necessary arrangements with Joanna, but where the rest of us are concerned you are to never seek us out. Don't come looking for us, and we won't have to come looking for you.'

Tyrell turned to leave on unsteady legs. People were talking to him, but he couldn't comprehend the words they were saying. He couldn't even make out what language they were speaking.

As he was about to pull open the door though, Phillip's deep voice cut through the fog in his mind.

'Be well, friend.'

Tyrell staggered through the door and stumbled down the hallway towards Elliot.

Elliot jumped up in alarm at the sight of him, and reached out to grab his arm.

Tyrell could hear Elliot asking him something, but he just couldn't understand what he was saying. He tried to say something back, but couldn't make himself form the right words.

He hoped that Elliot could sense that he needed to get out of the building, and quickly, as he felt nausea building up inside him.

Elliot got him safely outside the main door before he fell to his knees and vomited violently. Elliot rubbed his back and shushed him gently, completely terrified by this point by what might have happened to him.

When Tyrell recovered, Elliot gently guided him back to the car.

'Back to Mr Wellick's please,' Elliot commanded, and the driver nodded.

'As you wish, sir.'

Tyrell was doing his best to sit with his head between his knees, and Elliot squeezed his hand, no longer caring what the driver thought. After an excruciatingly long drive they pulled up outside Tyrell's house, and Elliot carefully got him inside. The exertion had left Tyrell breathless, and he leant against the wall panting. Elliot helped him take some deep breaths, and managed to get him upstairs and onto the bed.

He was still concerned that Tyrell didn't seem to understand him, and was having trouble speaking as well. Since getting inside he'd started shivering too, and was icy cold to the touch. Was this what happened when a person was in shock? Elliot tried to remember the first aid course he'd been sent on when he'd started at Allsafe.

He wrapped the covers around Tyrell and rubbed vigorously, in an attempt to warm him up.

'Tyrell, please, come on,' he held him gently by the chin in an attempt to make eye-contact with him. Tyrell stared at him with glassy, unseeing eyes, before squeezing them shut and covering his mouth, as if trying to fight another wave of nausea. Elliot was certain this wasn't down to drugs this time; what Tyrell was experiencing appeared to be an emotional response. Elliot was becoming increasingly frantic, desperate for the smallest acknowledgement from Tyrell.

He dashed across the room to grab the waste basket in case Tyrell was sick. While he was on the other side of the room Tyrell started to get up off the bed.

'Tyrell, wait!' Elliot shouted, but Tyrell ignored him and started to make his way shakily to the door.

Elliot started to run back to help him, but he was too late; Tyrell collapsed, dropping to the floor like a weighted sack.


	16. Chapter 16

Elliot leant over Tyrell in a state of complete panic, pleading with him to wake up.

He was scared to ring an ambulance in case something weird had been done to Tyrell that they wouldn't be able to explain. However, the more time passed with no response from Tyrell, the less Elliot started to care. Nothing really mattered unless Tyrell was okay.

He fumbled for his phone with shaking hands and let out a strangled sob when he saw the battery was dead.

 _Shit! Shit! Shit!_ He punched the floor next to him with frustration.

Tyrell had fallen forwards when he fainted, so Elliot wasn't able to reach into the pockets of his jeans very easily. He shifted positions, trying to wriggle his hand far enough into the pocket to reach Tyrell's phone, but he couldn't quite grip it with his shaking fingers.

'Shit!' he shouted out loud this time, as his tears began to fall.

'Come on Ty, I just need you to wake up!' he choked. He was pushing at Tyrell's body, trying to roll him over so he could get better access to the phone, but the man was like a dead weight.

Frustrated and scared, Elliot fisted Tyrell's shirt in both hands and started to shake him. He felt Tyrell twitch, and he jumped back.

Slowly, as if each part of his body was rebooting one by one, Tyrell started to shift. Elliot saw his fingers twitch, and with a groan he tried to slowly move himself into a kneeling position.

'Oh thank God!' Elliot darted forwards, and supported him under the arms. Once Elliot had gotten him into a sitting position he took a good look at Tyrell's face. His eyes looked hazy, and he was still cold and clammy to the touch.

'Elliot?' he slurred. 'What h-?'

'You passed out,' Elliot started to cry again, as the fear he'd felt overwhelmed him a second time.

'You're crying,' Tyrell stated with a puzzled look on his face.

'I was worried about you!' he scooted forwards to pull Tyrell into a hug, which the other man sluggishly reciprocated.

Elliot got Tyrell back onto the bed and covered him over with the duvet to stop him from shivering.

'Do you need a doctor?'

Tyrell shook his head. 'I'll be alright in a minute.'

'Did they do something to hurt you?'

The older man looked confused for a second, and then it was as if everything came flooding back to him. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, but shook his head, much to Elliot's relief.

'Do you remember what happened?' Elliot asked gently.

Tyrell nodded.

'Do you want to talk about it?'

He shook his head, eyes wide with fear. Fear of what, Elliot didn't know. Had he been threatened? Or was he simply afraid that if he said the words out loud it would make everything real? Elliot dreaded both possibilities.

They sat together on the bed, side-by-side, for quite some time. Elliot looked on with concern as Tyrell sat perfectly still, unseeing eyes fixed on the wall, until exhaustion overcame him.

The next morning Tyrell got showered and dressed as if nothing had happened. They had breakfast together and went to Elliot's shortly after. Tyrell seemed to be quietly going through the motions of life, and Elliot found it unsettling. He desperately wanted Tyrell to explain what had happened, but he was having trouble even getting small-talk out of him. Tyrell gave one word answers, and avoided eye-contact, instead fixing his gaze on a spot somewhere over Elliot's shoulder. He seemed to need to keep his hands occupied, always toying with a loose thread on his clothes, or drumming out little rhythms on the furniture.

He understood that Tyrell needed time to process whatever the fuck had gone on, but at this point, Elliot just wanted some sort of reassurance that he was okay.

He didn't want to leave Tyrell alone just yet, so he persuaded him to join him on his walk with Flipper. Tyrell didn't want to hold the leash, but he showed more interest in the dog than usual, talking to her and ruffling her fur playfully. It seemed to cheer him up a bit, and when they got back to the apartment Tyrell had Flipper sit on his lap. He'd closed his eyes and was running his hand through Flipper's fur absent-mindedly when Elliot came over with a sandwich for him.

The sandwich remained untouched, and within half an hour Tyrell was asleep. Elliot covered him with a blanket, and let Flipper stay curled up next to him.

He slept solidly, right through to the following evening. Elliot suspected there were times when he might have woken up briefly, but pretended to still be asleep to avoid having to talk. Flipper hardly left his side the entire time.

By the time night had fallen, Elliot felt restless and impossibly lonely. He considered calling Darlene, but didn't think she'd be too pleased to find Tyrell on his sofa. Angela was also not an option; he didn't fancy explaining what was going on to her. He laughed bitterly to himself. That was assuming he actually could explain even if he wanted to. Where would he even start? He wondered why Angela hadn't tried to contact him. He hoped she was okay. Was she happy that Evil Corp had been taken down? She must be. The thought warmed Elliot slightly.

It struck him that he didn't even know what the world looked like now, which was ludicrous given that he'd created it. Of course, he'd been outside, and even now he could still hear the sounds of revolution; distant cheers, glass smashing, nervous murmurs in the air. But he couldn't actually comprehend what life was going to be like, not really. Not the minutiae, the day-to-day drudgery. He'd been so wrapped up in the crazy whirlwind of the last few days that it was almost as if he and Tyrell existed in a bubble. But Elliot knew that couldn't last forever.

He thought of Gideon next, and felt sad. He was a good man, whose business meant everything to him, and now that was probably all gone. At least he had a partner who loved him though, someone to care for him, and get him through this time of uncertainty.

Elliot had no-one.

Up until now, Elliot had been distracted by helping Tyrell. Distracted by red balloons, teddy bears, and strange clues. Now the mind games were over (he hoped), and Tyrell had shut him out completely, he had nothing to channel his energy into, and no-one to talk to. As he felt the cogs inside him grind to a halt, he heard the voices in his head creeping back into the gaps and silences.

He curled up in a ball and rocked against the wall behind him, trying to cry as quietly as possible so Tyrell wouldn't hear. Normally Flipper would bring him comfort, but even she'd abandoned him. Elliot tried very hard not to feel betrayed. Or jealous.

What hurt him most of all was the thought that Tyrell would soon go back to his life, leaving them as… what, exactly? Friends? They were no longer co-workers. Acquaintances? Would they catch up every now and then, go for a beer? What would they even talk about? They'd been brought together by this strange series of events, but it wasn't like they had any other common ground. Actually, that wasn't strictly true. Elliot recalled from their first conversation that Tyrell was a programmer at heart; it was where his passion lay. All those years ago- before he was sucked into a world of business lunches, expensive suits and all that pretension and bullshit- it was just him, a computer and lines of code at his fingertips. Elliot could relate to that.

Maybe Tyrell could join him as a vigilante hacker. The Robin to his Batman. Elliot actually snorted out loud at that. He palmed at his eyes roughly; he was starting to feel better.

He dragged himself up, poured a glass of water and flopped onto the bed. He'd given up on speaking to Tyrell tonight, hoping that by tomorrow he'd be well-rested and in a better place to finally talk to him. Still feeling somewhat uneasy he drifted off to sleep.

Elliot woke up sluggishly about two hours later. He blinked slowly and looked around in confusion, unsure of what had woken him up.

'Tyrell?' No answer. He was no longer on the sofa. Elliot's stomach clenched with nervousness.

'Tyrell?' he called out again. Frantically he searched the rest of the apartment, but Tyrell was nowhere to be found.

Putting on his hoodie, he ran out of the door and almost tripped over his own legs trying to get down the stairs.

Out on the street he swung round wildly, calling out Tyrell's name. This felt sickeningly familiar, and his heart pounded with dread.

He stumbled into a passer-by who swore at him, but he didn't even care. He was starting to get some strange looks as he paced around madly, but again, it was the least of his worries. He just needed a minute to gather his thoughts and think about this calmly, so he stopped and took a deep breath.

Tyrell had probably just gone back to his place. Why hadn't he left a note though? Something about this didn't feel right.

 _Oh God, oh God, oh God. Where's Tyrell?_

He ran his hands anxiously through his hair and looked up at the sky for some kind of guidance.

His heart stuttered and he felt his blood turn to ice as something caught his eye.

It was hard to make out in the dark, but dangerously close to the edge, there stood a man on the roof of Elliot's building.


	17. Chapter 17

Elliot had never run so fast in his life. He burst through the front door and took the stairs two at a time until he reached the door that led out onto the roof. His lungs burned, and lactic acid pumped through his muscles. His body was screaming at him, but he took no notice.

Despite his panic, he took a second to compose himself and walk out onto the roof slowly, not wanting to startle Tyrell.

From the street it had been impossible to say for sure that it definitely was Tyrell standing up there, but Elliot had known instinctively that it was. Now, slowly walking towards him, his fears were confirmed, and he swallowed down a wave of nausea.

'Tyrell,' he called out gently, as if approaching a frightened animal. 'It's Elliot.'

Tyrell had his back to him and didn't acknowledge Elliot's presence. The only movement that came from the man was his hair being gently ruffled by the breeze.

'Tyrell,' he tried again, 'I won't pretend to know what you're going through, because I literally have no idea. But I've been where you are right now man. I know how it feels to not care about anything anymore. To feel like everything is impossible. To feel like everything just hurts too damn much, and you just need it to stop. But you're strong Tyrell, strong enough to get through anything. And when you don't feel like that's true, you'll have me to remind you. I'm here, and I always want to be, if you'll let me.'

Tyrell didn't reply, but shifted closer to the edge. Elliot's stomach lurched.

'Tyrell, please,' he begged. 'I mean it, I'm here. Whatever has happened, we'll deal with it.'

'For better or for worse, right?' Tyrell croaked, voice hoarse from lack of use.

'I'm sorry?'

'Promises, Elliot. They're just words. Vows. Nothing. Breath and ink. Nothing means anything. Everything is a lie.' He sounded so small, and Elliot was confused by what he was saying.

'Tyrell, please just step away from the edge and talk to me. Not everything is a lie. I'm not a lie.'

'But you lie to yourself, Elliot, I know how your mind plays tricks on you. You don't know what's real either.'

Elliot grasped desperately in his mind for a response to that.

'Not always, no. But I know you're real. And I know what we did is real. And I know that I like you, and care about you. And I know Flipper likes you. Those things are real, and they should matter Tyrell.'

Elliot could see that Tyrell was crying by the way his shoulders shook slightly. He carried on determinedly.

'I know lots of things are real. I know that I trust you, and that's hard for me. I usually see the worst in people, but not when I look at you. And I know you trust me too. I know you care about me. So please, if you don't care about yourself enough right now, do this for me- don't step off this roof. Because if you do I don't know how I'll cope. I need you.'

After an agonizing silence, Tyrell turned to face him. Elliot choked out a sob of relief.

Tyrell looked at him with wide, desperate eyes, searching his face for signs he was lying.

'I don't know how to believe you Elliot!' he cried, 'People say what they think you need to hear, so you'll do what they want. I don't want to be a puppet any more,' he spat. He brought his hands up to pull angrily at his hair, and let out an anguished scream that echoed in the night air.

'Tyrell, listen to me. I'm not lying to you. However you want me to prove it, I will. Just give me a chance. Let's go inside.'

'No!' Tyrell roared, swinging round to turn his back on Elliot again. Elliot's heart leaped into his throat.

'This big, amazing, wonderful thing we did Elliot – they wanted it. Evil Corp were behind it. I don't know how, or why, but it was happening Elliot, long before you came along.'

'Tyrell, you're not making any sense. How is that even possible?'

'That's just it Elliot, nothing makes sense!' He laughed bitterly. 'I don't make sense, the last thirteen years of my life don't make sense. Nothing was real, everything was-' he struggled for the right word, ' _manufactured. I_ was manufactured _._ Just like a robot, built for purpose.'

'Please tell me what you're talking about Ty, I want to understand,' Elliot's voice was choked with tears.

'They used me. They built me, set me loose when they needed to, and watched me destroy everything. Like a virus. And what do we know about viruses Elliot? They need to be wiped out.'

'This can't be true,' Elliot breathed in disbelief. Tyrell laughed maniacally.

'Well it is. I've been a slave to them for thirteen years, and I didn't even know it. My life has been their design.'

How could Elliot even respond to that? It was so crazy, and so awful that he didn't think anything he could say would make a blind bit of difference. Finally though, a thought struck him.

'But that wasn't your whole life. You have a wife, and a son. That's a beautiful thing Tyrell, you have a family!'

Tyrell slumped forward, leaning his hands on his thighs. Elliot thought he was about to be sick. Instead he laughed a truly awful, bitter laugh that trailed off into harsh sobs.

Elliot panicked. _Oh God, they're dead_. _No, no, no, how could this happen?_ Elliot suppressed a sob of his own.

'Tyrell, I'm so s-' he cut himself off as Tyrell fell forwards onto his hands and knees. He was now dangerously close to the edge.

Elliot seized his opportunity and ran towards him. He knelt beside Tyrell, who was now shivering violently, his teeth chattering. Elliot yanked off his hoodie and draped it around him. Grabbing Tyrell under the arms, he managed to pull him backwards, positioning him so that he was lying down on his side. He rested Tyrell's head in his lap.

Elliot held him tight, rocking him gently, and used his other hand to smooth the hair away from Tyrell's face and stroke his head comfortingly. Tyrell gripped the forearm wrapped around his chest as if holding on to a life-raft. Elliot breathed out a shaky sigh of relief that immediate danger had been averted. Tyrell was crying, big noisy sobs that shook his whole frame, and Elliot hugged him so hard he was afraid he might be hurting him. Elliot could no longer hold back his own tears, and he watched them drip down into Tyrell's hair.

The night air blustered around them and the ringing in his ears drowned out the noise from the street below. All Elliot could focus on was the rush of his own thoughts, and the solid weight in his lap that was clinging to him so hard it was as if Elliot were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

'…Elliot?' he dimly registered that Tyrell was asking him something. 'Elliot, can we get off the roof?'

Elliot smiled, a watery but genuine smile of relief. He helped Tyrell up and walked him back to the apartment, with a gentle arm around his waist.

Back inside, Tyrell settled himself gingerly on the sofa. Elliot bought over a couple of waters and took a seat next to him.

'Ty, I'm so sorry,' Elliot started awkwardly. Tyrell sipped his drink, not really taking in what Elliot was saying. 'I really didn't-'

'They're not dead,' he whispered.

'What? But I don't-'

'They're not dead,' he repeated firmly, as if this closed the matter.

Elliot continued to stare at him in confusion until finally he took a deep, shuddering breath.

'Joanna was part of it. She worked with Evil Corp. She helped them to manipulate me.' He lowered his eyes, humiliation colouring his cheeks.

Elliot's mind reeled and he hoped somehow he was misunderstanding Tyrell's words.

'I really don't understand what you're telling me.'

So Tyrell told him. He explained how after Evil Corp had chosen him as their pawn, they'd recruited Joanna to keep him in line. He admitted with shame that none of his accomplishments were reflective of his own skill or merit. And he admitted with a broken heart that Joanna had never really loved him. Well, she had, but in a 'make the best of a bad situation' kind of way, and not in the all-consuming, passionate way Tyrell loved her.

Lastly, he reasoned that if he could be tricked into spending thirteen years with someone who didn't love him the way he thought they did, he must not actually understand what love was. That was perhaps the hardest admission of all. Tyrell prided himself on being able to read people, yet for the majority of his adult life most of the people he knew had been lying to him and he hadn't even realised. It made him feel weak, and more than that, it made him feel stupid. And Tyrell Wellick was anything but stupid.

 _Fuck._ Elliot felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. What was a person supposed to do with a realisation like that? To learn that your whole life, and everything you built your world around was a lie? How could someone move on from that? To an extent, Elliot knew how it felt. He knew the fear of being tricked, of not knowing what was real and what wasn't. But this was so different, and the implications made his head hurt.

Looking at Tyrell's sad, wide eyes, he seemed like a little boy. To some extent he kind of was, in the sense that he'd never experienced the true freedom and independence of adulthood. In the years where he was supposed to carve out an identity for himself, someone else had been holding the knife and doing it for him.

'It must feel like your identity has been ripped away from you, like you don't even know which parts of yourself are real, and which ones are fabrications.' Elliot mused out loud.

Tyrell looked taken-aback. 'Yes, Elliot, that's exactly how it feels,' he whispered.

Elliot desperately needed Tyrell to know something.

'I understand you Tyrell. I feel like I know you better than myself sometimes. You might feel like you have no-one and nothing right now, but that's not true. You have me, and I can tell you that the way I feel about you is 100% real. No agenda, no ulterior motives.'

'And how is that Elliot?'

It might not have been the appropriate thing to do, but it felt like the only way to make Tyrell understand. Without a second thought, he leaned in and kissed him.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: This might seem like the last chapter, but it's not. There will be at least a couple more, so I hope you enjoy!** **Please let me know your thoughts!**

The kiss was gentle, tender and tinged with longing. Elliot tried to pour everything into it that he couldn't put into words. Tyrell gasped softly at first, but quickly recovered, closing his eyes and responding in kind. Elliot could feel his desire, need and hope with each gentle flick of his tongue, and soft moan.

Their kisses before had been hungry and untamed, but this felt different. Elliot knew it wasn't going to lead anywhere, this wasn't the right time, and neither of them was in the right frame of mind.

'I'm so confused. I feel like I've lost everything,' Tyrell's words were almost swallowed by Elliot's mouth.

'You haven't,' Elliot breathed onto Tyrell's lips, and the other man shivered.

For both of them, their previous kisses had been about filling a desperate need. They'd been driven by instinct and charged by the fear coursing through their veins. This kiss however, was the polar opposite: intuitive, sensory. They explored each other, lips working slowly and precisely, testing angles and pressures. Hands gently roamed, fingers finding purchase in each other's hair, trailing along collarbones, and slipping under clothes to make contact with skin.

They were getting to know each other again, noting what made the other shiver, moan and squirm. It was a kiss filled with promises and reassurances. Tyrell found it overwhelming, the feeling of love and safety he found in Elliot's touch. He opened his eyes, to stare at Elliot, awestruck.

Elliot caressed his cheek gently and whispered raggedly, 'I thought you knew.'

Tyrell smiled softly, eyes suddenly downcast. 'I'd only ever hoped.' His dam finally broke then, and he reclaimed Elliot's mouth, kissing him with renewed passion. As though a great weight was being lifted from him, he finally allowed himself to feel the things he'd been swallowing down. The feelings which had gently simmered deep inside him now bubbled dangerously under his skin.

He'd repressed this desire for so long, for so many reasons- his marriage, commitment, status. But now, he had none of those things, he'd been wiped clean. For the first time, instead of terror, this thought brought him excitement. Not only was he allowed to want this now, but he knew that Elliot wanted it too.

He broke away from the smaller man just long enough to gasp out, 'I've wanted this for so long Elliot. You've always had me.'

Fire ripped through Elliot's insides at his words and the weight of their sincerity. He groaned from deep inside his throat, and knew that their restraint wasn't going to last much longer.

Tyrell had obviously had the same thought, as he was now lifting Elliot gently, and moving him toward the bed.

They pawed clumsily at each other's clothes, and before Elliot knew it, they were lying naked, roughly pressed against each other. Legs entwined, and hands roaming, they ground against each other messily. For a long time, neither of them moved to take things further. There was no intent behind their movements, further than wringing as much pleasure out of each other as possible.

Both drunk with pleasure and lost in their delirious ministrations, Elliot was the first to break the spell. He needed more, no longer able to withstand the fiery ache he felt within him. He wanted feel Tyrell move inside him. He wanted to feel complete.

He pulled away from Tyrell and looked him deep in the eyes. The other man wordlessly nodded, as if able to read his mind. With quick, expert fingers, Tyrell got them both ready, and before Elliot knew what was happening, he had slipped inside him and was grinding a gentle rhythm. The sensation seemed to be almost too much for Tyrell, who groaned, long and deep, looking at Elliot with reverence. Elliot too felt overwhelmed as the initial discomfort turned to intense pleasure, and he began to move, falling into time with Tyrell's thrusts. For several seconds all Elliot's brain could register was the sound of skin slapping against skin, punctuated by Tyrell's moans.

What Elliot found amazing about being with Tyrell was that it managed to simultaneously relax him, yet also set his nerves ablaze. Like the man himself, sex with Tyrell was a beautiful mess of contradictions that both excited and confused him.

Elliot kept his head turned, not wanting to break eye-contact with Tyrell. He wanted to watch him lose control; see it in his light, expressive eyes. He knew that Tyrell felt things intensely, passionately- so much so, he sometimes scared himself. Right now, his bright blue eyes were filled with hunger.

Elliot sent him a wordless plea and he nodded mutely, picking up the pace as he did so. Elliot gasped as he slammed into him, harder and faster.

Now, Tyrell's eyes reflected the conflict he felt as he fought to let go of his last remaining feelings of guilt. No matter how much he wanted this, he still felt as if he was betraying Joanna, his family, and his old life. But at the same time it felt bittersweet. As if being with Elliot was sealing his fate, and accepting that everything he once knew was gone. Elliot saw relief, pleasure and desire, but also sadness, uncertainty and grief.

He whispered a reassuring mantra which washed over Tyrell comfortingly. 'Tyrell I need you…I need you…I want you so badly…I want you.'

Tears swam in Tyrell's eyes and he smiled, joy dancing across his face. He was speeding closer to his release, Elliot could feel it as he drove deeper, digging his fingernails into Elliot's skin. Elliot shuddered with pleasure as Tyrell hit the sweet spot deep inside him. The other man smiled again, before being overcome by his release, his face contorting with ecstasy. His deep, guttural moans and final sharp thrusts felt like an electric jolt to Elliot's insides, and Elliot frantically stroked his own cock, suddenly desperate for release as well. As if being cheered on by Tyrell's ragged gasps for breath, Elliot came seconds later.

Reluctantly they separated, falling ungracefully next to each other on the bed. Sweaty and sated they lay for several minutes with nothing but the sound of each other's breathing filling the air.

When he was able to catch his breath Elliot rolled over to curl up against Tyrell's side. Tyrell responded by putting a gentle arm around Elliot's shoulders.

Elliot found himself hoping for a lot of things. He hoped that he'd eased some of Tyrell's pain. He hoped that Tyrell could see that while the rest of his life had been ripped away from him, Elliot was still there; his 'one constant in a sea of variables'. That phrase rang true, now more than ever.

Elliot remembered how he'd felt the day he'd stood at his father's grave. The day he'd realised that so much of his world had been his own fabrication. He'd felt gutted, torn apart, devastated. He could only imagine that Tyrell was feeling like that, but on a much larger scale. He suspected that Tyrell's pain was a raw, burning ache that tore through him, leaving him feeling sick and desolate.

He hoped that in the midst of whatever emptiness and uncertainty Tyrell saw stretched out before him, he saw Elliot too. Because whatever future Tyrell now had, Elliot was sure he wanted to be a part of it.

Lastly, he hoped that Tyrell knew that he was loved. Elliot couldn't speak for anyone else in Tyrell's life, but he knew how * _he_ * felt about him. It had taken him a long time to decipher his weird mess of feelings towards the man, but looking at the facts now, it was obvious. He was undeniably attracted to him; he'd proven that many times now. He obviously cared deeply for him, given that the foremost thought in his mind since he'd woken up in Tyrell's car had been finding him, and making sure he was okay.

And he knew he must love him, based on the fact that when Tyrell had been standing on the edge of that rooftop, it had been the single-most terrifying moment of Elliot's life.

Elliot knew that life wasn't binary, that feelings were never black and white. But he also knew that sometimes even the intangible could feel real to the point of defying all logic. Love, though an unquantifiable concept, could strike you in such a way that you felt it like a physical pain. Sometimes you * _could*_ find certainty in the uncertain, and logic in the illogical. You just had to trust your instincts. This was where people differed from computers, he supposed.

The idea of losing Tyrell had been unimaginable, and Elliot's heart clenched painfully as he remembered watching him inch closer to the edge.

He propped himself up to get a better look at Tyrell's face, and saw that he was sleeping peacefully. His face slack, and features soft, he was such a contrast to the distraught, wild-eyed man who'd stood before Elliot just over an hour ago. It was like Elliot had flipped a switch.

Elliot found it crazy to think that one small action could completely change the course of a person's life. If he hadn't made it onto the roof in time…he shuddered at the thought.

He wasn't stupid enough to think that he'd magically fixed everything. It would take Tyrell a long time to heal, but the important thing was that Elliot had made him realise that he didn't have to do it alone. And right now that was all that mattered.


	19. Chapter 19

The next few days passed in a lazy blur. It would have been almost nice, except Elliot could sense that Tyrell was retreating back into himself.

Elliot knew Tyrell loved food; he'd spoken passionately about it in the past. He liked to try new things, and he enjoyed dishes with spice and flavour. But over the last couple of days he'd picked morosely at his meals and chosen bland, beige food. Elliot had tried to tempt him with Korean take-out on the second day, but he'd declined and had toast instead. It was as if he was shutting down, like he simply couldn't process any unnecessary sensory information.

They talked, but it was always awkward chit-chat. Elliot was starting to get a picture of how Tyrell coped with things. He retreated and grew quiet, seeking physical reassurance rather than sharing what was on his mind.

The only time he seemed happy was when they were being intimate. They'd kiss lazily on the couch, limbs entwined and hands rubbing soothing patterns on each other's skin. Tyrell would let himself go, seemingly forgetting everything other than the feel of Elliot's lips on his. But when they'd stop, he's snap back into his bad mood, or sleep. He did a lot of sleeping.

Elliot knew that his silence was a defence mechanism, and understood from his own experience that talking could be scary. It meant confronting feelings, and hearing the words out loud made everything real. But, he reasoned, as glorious as it would be, they couldn't just spend their days kissing. So, on day four, he pushed a bit harder.

'Tyrell, what's on your mind?'

'Elliot, I don't wa-'

'Please?'

This request, simple and earnest, was enough to stop Tyrell in his tracks. He cleared his throat nervously.

'I'm anxious about seeing my son.'

Joanna had called to arrange for Tyrell to come over and see Otto. Once he'd hung up the phone he'd seemed jittery, but on the whole happy. Elliot put the jitters down to nerves (completely understandable, given the circumstances), but overall had been pleased that something good was happening for Tyrell.

'Why are you anxious Ty?'

Tyrell looked ashamed, and Elliot reached out to put a reassuring hand on his forearm.

'Because I'm scared that I won't love him,' he whispered.

Elliot was momentarily speechless. He'd not been expecting that. He'd assumed Tyrell would be nervous to see Joanna, that he would find it hard to see her in her new house, starting a new life without him. He had thought perhaps that Tyrell might feel disconnected from the baby, being that he'd not had very much contact with him so far. But he hadn't expected Tyrell to say that.

'Why?'

'Because I'm worried that when I look at him all I'll see is the lies. And besides, if my marriage was a sham, surely that makes me barely more than a sperm-donor. Certainly not a father.'

'That's crazy Ty, that's not how it works! And surely you have to realise you were more than that to her.' No response.

'Tyrell?'

Tyrell just stared at his hands.

'And as for not being a father, what you do now determines that, nothing else. If you're there for him now, and you're there to watch him grow up, then how could anyone see you as anything but his father? And most importantly your son isn't going to care about any of the shit that went down. Sure, that might be a confusing and awkward conversation when he's older-' Tyrell laughed softly and Elliot squeezed his hand, '- but if he knows you love him, that's all he's going to care about.' Tyrell looked up at Elliot hopefully.

'And I don't believe for a second that you won't love him. He's a part of you, your own flesh and blood. At the end of the day that matters far more than everything else you're worrying about.'

Tyrell pulled Elliot into a hug and gripped him tightly. The smaller man stilled, caught off guard, but recovered quickly, wrapping his arms round Tyrell's broad shoulders. He breathed in Tyrell's clean, fresh scent, and closed his eyes. They stayed like that until Tyrell finally relaxed, and that night he ate something other than bread for the first time in days.

Two days later Elliot helped Tyrell get ready to leave for Joanna's. Clearly nervous, Tyrell fussed with his appearance, and looked, on multiple occasions, like he might throw up. As he opened the front door to leave Elliot pressed a firm, urgent kiss on his lips and looked up into his eyes.

'Remember what I told you.'

Tyrell nodded silently, a lump in his throat.

He found Joanna's apartment without any trouble, and she let him in with a warm smile.

'Hello Tyrell,' she said fondly, kissing him on both cheeks. He looked like a deer in headlights, his blue eyes wide, and his stature lacking its usual height and confidence. She took him by the hand kindly, and led him into the front room. He looked around, taking in the surroundings. Like the house they'd shared it was tastefully decorated, if a little more modest. He spotted a photo of the two of them, taken on the beach. It was a candid shot he didn't remember being taken. They looked young and happy.

Joanna caught what he was staring at. 'I'm sorry,' she said, 'I hope you don't mind me keeping this one up. It's just a happy memory for me,' she finished sadly. 'If it's too weird for you I can take it down.'

'N-no,' he managed to croak, 'I like it.' He cleared his throat. 'I'm sorry, this is just-'

'I know,' she cut in softly. 'It's okay. Do you want to-'

'Can I see him?' Tyrell interrupted, his resolve hardened, and his mask firmly back in place.

Joanna faltered slightly, taken-aback, before nodding. 'Of course you can.'

Tyrell might have doubted it before, but as soon as he saw Otto he knew without question that he loved him. He'd already grown a lot since he was born, and he blinked up at Tyrell sleepily. Tyrell smiled at him and gently stroked his face with his left hand. His eyes filled with tears as he felt overcome with joy.

'He's beautiful Joanna. Perfect.'

Joanna had come up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Resting her chin on his shoulder blade she whispered, 'I know. We did well'.

Tyrell turned to face her. He was so unaccustomed to this softer side of Joanna. It reminded him of when they were first together, but it was a part of her he'd rarely seen in recent years. Now he understood why of course.

They were standing far too close, Tyrell looking down into Joanna's eyes. He brought his hand up to her cheek and heard her breath catch in her throat. This snapped him out of it, and he withdrew his hand sharply. He turned his attention back to the baby. 'Can I hold him?'

'Tyrell, he's your son, you don't have to ask.'

Nervously he reached into the crib and gently picked his son up for the first time. He choked out something between a laugh and a sob as he held Otto's tiny warm body against his. Joanna decided to leave the two of them alone and quietly headed out to the kitchen. About twenty minutes later Tyrell came out to join her. She was pleased to see that he looked happy, a genuine smile gracing his face for the first time in what felt like ages. He took a seat next to her and she offered him some tea.

They sipped contentedly until Tyrell broke the silence.

'Never could I have imagined how incredible that would feel.' Joanna just smiled. 'I could have held him forever.'

'You could have stayed longer, I wouldn't have minded.'

'He started to get restless, so I thought it best to let him sleep.' He suddenly remembered something and reached into his bag. 'I brought him a gift!'

Joanna opened the box he gave her, and pulled out a small soft toy. She laughed as she saw it was a little lion.

'Because he's going to be strong and brave like his mother.'

'And his father,' Joanna added, gently squeezing his hand. He just nodded, not really convinced by her words.

He almost made a joke about how he'd decided to steer clear of teddy bears this time, but realised he couldn't bring himself to. He felt a lump form in his throat, and his vision swam.

He wasn't sure how it happened. His thoughts were so jumbled that his brain was three steps behind his body, so he was as surprised as she was by the feeling of his lips on hers. Her soft noise of shock jolted him into the present, and his mind screamed at him that he was making a mistake. He couldn't find it in himself to care however, and he deepened the kiss.

Joanna pulled away suddenly. 'What are you doing?'

'Please,' he whispered brokenly. She knew him better than to assume this was about needing immediate comfort. She understood that this was about closure, a way to come to terms with the hurt he felt. A way to end their chapter, and move on. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't felt the same way.

They'd been together for such a long time. Even to Joanna, who had known their life was a lie, their abrupt ending had been a shock. It had left her with loose ends that needed tying up, and feelings that needed to be reconciled. It was human nature to mourn the familiar when it was snatched away, even if it was you that did the snatching.

Her own feelings aside, surely she owed him this much anyway. If he needed this to help him deal with the truly awful things she'd done to him, then it was the least she could do. She needed to make sure he understood something though.

'You know this doesn't mean-'

'I know, I know it doesn't,' he whispered frantically as he placed kisses down her neck, his hand already slipping inside the waistband of her trousers. She gasped, letting her head roll back as his fingers found their destination. She grabbed his other wrist and pulled him roughly to the bedroom.

They had always had crazy chemistry, and a great sex life. But there had come a point in their relationship, when she'd decided that she needed to distance herself, for both their sakes. It didn't seem fair to keep building such a meaningful physical connection, and she felt like she was taking advantage of him.

They both had such a high sex-drive that stopping sex altogether would have been out of the question, so for Joanna, the silk ties and blindfold acted as a compromise. Tyrell was unsure about the restraints at first, but she'd persuaded him that it turned her on, and eventually he got on board.

It helped her to disconnect from sex by removing its tenderness, its intimacy (in her eyes, at least). It served a purpose and left them satisfied, but it was stripped of all the things that had made sex special for them. She knew he felt the same, but wanted more than anything to keep her happy, so went along with it. That thought broke her heart; he'd always been so good to her.

As hard as it felt in the beginning, she knew the kindest thing she could do was to be colder towards him, and sex was a good starting point. She also reasoned that somehow, letting him have dominance absolved her of some of her guilt. She had taken away so much of his power in all other areas of their relationship that in her mind this levelled the playing field. She realised now how much she'd been lying to herself as well as him, and that she would never be able to forgive herself for the awful ways in which she'd manipulated and pushed him away, knowing he loved her too much to leave her.

Their sex now reminded her of their early days. When she'd still thought, somehow hoped, that maybe they could work. Before she'd fully come to comprehend the weight of her lies, and the effect they would have on him. Before she'd realised just how large the game board was. Before Phillip had finally been honest with her about the endgame, and how life-changing its consequences would be.

Sex with him at the start had been like nothing she'd ever experienced. She'd never really associated sex with any sort of meaningful connection, and the first time they'd made love, the intensity of the feelings behind it had overwhelmed her. He'd made her feel good, wanted, cherished. Feeling all this again now, she was reminded why she'd felt the need to cut off that side of him. It was too much- far more than she felt she deserved- and this feeling overwhelmed her again.

Sensing she was upset he paused, looking down at her with worried eyes. 'What's wrong?'

She felt too choked to speak, but eventually managed, 'I'm just so sorry.'

'No, Joanna-'

'You never deserved any of this.'

His expression was unreadable as he studied her face. Eventually he seemed to win whatever battle he was fighting in his mind and he moved to capture her lips with his. 'I just want to have this to remember us by.'

She understood completely- he needed something positive to take away with him, an honest memory of the two of them, as equals. She nodded, cupping his face with her hand, and he built the pace back up until he was driving into her hard and fast.

As they neared their release they babbled sweet nothings in their native tongues. She knew he was really close when he started to groan her name. She savoured hearing it, knowing it would be the last time.

Afterwards she could tell he felt as wrung-out as she did. They lay panting, nerves singing with pleasure and again, she savoured the bittersweet moment. She took him in, noting all the ways she'd undone him, knowing she would never see him like this again.

Tyrell lay next to her, feeling like he'd been hit by a sledgehammer. He could feel anxiety tightening his chest, and struggled to calm his racing thoughts. He sat upright, in an attempt to breathe in more air, but the room felt too hot, too stifling. He could hear her talking to him, could sense concern in her voice, but she sounded so far away. He shrugged away from the hand she put on his shoulder and started putting his clothes back on frantically.

He told her he had to go (or at least he hoped he'd said the words out loud, but he couldn't be sure), and quickly made his way outside. He took in big lungfuls of fresh air, leaning against a parked car for support, not caring about the concerned glances he was getting.

It was a fairly long walk back to his, but he decided he needed the time to sort himself out, and started walking on unsteady legs. About halfway there he realised he couldn't leave things this way with Joanna so he reluctantly pulled out his mobile. She answered on the first ring.

'Tyrell?' she sounded small and worried.

'I'm sorry I left like that, I was… confused.' Confused was such an inadequate word for how he actually felt, but he didn't know where to begin explaining. She seemed to understand anyway.

'I know, I'm sorry. For what it's worth though, I don't regret it.'

'Me neither,' he eventually concluded.

'I hope this doesn't complicate matters with Elliot.'

He froze, feeling like he might be sick.

'How did y-'

Hearing his panic she cut in quickly, 'I didn't know for sure. We were watching you before but what you did in your own home was always private. You have my word on that. They wanted to bug everything, but I wouldn't let them.'

'Am I still being watched?' He didn't know why the thought hadn't occurred to him sooner.

'No. They promised to sever all ties as soon as you were told everything. They'll keep their word; you won't ever have to worry about them again.'

'But then how did you know?'

'It was just a hunch. I know you Tyrell.' He felt a weird stab of betrayal at that.

'That must be nice,' he retorted bitterly.

'You know me a lot better than you think you do. I know you don't believe this, but not all of our relationship was a lie. I opened myself up to you far more than I should have done.'

He forced an angry laugh out through his teeth. 'Oh, how nice of you Joanna,' he spat venomously.

'I know it's of little comfort to you right now, but it's true. I only started to pull back when I realised it wasn't fair to you.'

With those words, the fight in him vanished, and his shoulders slumped.

'I want to be a part of our son's life Joanna, but I don't want this to be so hard.'

'It won't always be, I promise.'

'There's so much I want to ask you about our relationship. I need to understand, to see it how you saw it, but at the same time I really don't want to. There are some things I just need to…' he struggled to find the right words, '…hold on to.'

'Then don't ask me, at least not yet if you don't feel ready. Give yourself some time, and don't be so hard on yourself,' she said kindly.

He nodded, not caring that she wouldn't be able to see his response.

'Tyrell, I'm glad that you've found someone. I want you to be happy.'

He ignored her words, not wanting to think about Elliot right now, and trying to ignore the guilt that rose up in his throat like bile.

'So I'll see you on Friday with Otto?'

'Of course. And Tyrell-'

'Bye Joanna,' he cut her off. Joanna blinked at the abrupt end to their conversation, but understood that he was just retreating to protect himself, there was no anger behind his actions. She had confidence that they would be able to work out their complicated relationship, if not for themselves, for the sake of their son. It would just take some time.

Tyrell on the other hand, was no longer thinking about Joanna, but instead worrying about Elliot. He was almost home, and knew that Elliot would want to talk to him. He could get away with not talking for a while- he could just say he wasn't feeling well and Elliot would give him some space. But Elliot would definitely want to kiss him when he came in, and the thought of that made him want to cry. Oh God, what had he done?

He put his key in the lock and entered quietly. Elliot came out to greet him with a smile.

'Hey,' Tyrell mumbled weakly.

'How did it go?' Elliot moved to wrap his arms around Tyrell, but the taller man shrugged him off, turning his face away from him.

'What's wrong?' Elliot asked him gently.

He felt trapped, with his back against the front door, and Elliot's wide eyes boring into him.

His heart hammered in his chest as he whispered, 'Elliot, I did something.'


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** **So, this is it, the final chapter! I'm sad to be saying goodbye to this story, but am planning to make it into a series. I'm already working on a couple of things... :-)**

 **I love writing these characters, so I'm also taking prompts. If you have any ideas/headcanons let me know, and I might have a go at writing something for them. Come chat to me on Tumblr!**

 **I really hope you've enjoyed this story. As always, let me know your thoughts in the comments, I'd love to hear from you!** **  
:-)**

'What? What did you do Ty? I'm sure it's not-'

'I had sex with Joanna.' He kept his eyes fixed on Elliot, anxiously awaiting his reaction.

Elliot tried to hide it but the hurt flashed across his face, plain to see.

'Are you going to get back together?'

'God, no, definitely not! This was just… it was closure Elliot. It meant nothing. Well, it didn't mean nothing, but it certainly didn't mean what you're thinking it meant.'

Elliot nodded in understanding, but the tears welling in his eyes betrayed him. He turned on his heel and started to walk away.

'Elliot, please-'

'I want to be alone.'

Tyrell just nodded, rooted to the spot. He wanted to move, felt a desperate need to shower, but he couldn't bring himself to put one foot in front of the other. Instead, he sank down onto the floor, resting his back against the door. He could smell her on his skin, her usual perfume mixed with the salty tang of her sweat. It was an unwelcome reminder of what they'd just done, and his stomach churned.

A thought entered his mind with sickening force: he was about to be truly, terribly alone. If Elliot left him, which he was sure to do, he would have no-one. He hadn't been alone like that since he lost his parents, and God knows he hadn't handled that well. He'd barely made it through his last two years of university, pushing away anyone who came close to him. Not that there were many who'd tried; he'd been clear from the start that he was there to learn, not make friends. He'd become dangerously single-minded, channeling every ounce of his energy into his studies, to the detriment of his health, and all other aspects of his life.

If Joanna hadn't come along and put him on an even-kilter again he's fairly certain he would have burnt out, or worse.

He was weak, he realised now. He had a fierce intellect, and exuded power and confidence when he needed to, but that wasn't the same as actually being strong. He had never been able to cope with his emotions, felt disgusted by his own vulnerability, and always had fear sitting uneasily in his gut. As if somehow, no matter what he did, he would always be two steps behind. How right he'd been about that.

He'd joked about not being human, but had always secretly wished that were true. He longed to feel safe, and the unpredictability of life scared him. With computers there was always a logical reason for every outcome. Every error had a cause, which you could find, and therefore fix. They didn't think for themselves, and you could make them do what you needed them to. Life, and people, weren't like that. _He_ wasn't like that. He didn't know what caused his errors, and he certainly didn't know how to fix them.

Computers could be restored to a safe point; you could erase the parts of their history that were damaging to them. If all else failed, they could be wiped, rebuilt- you could start afresh. Nothing could wipe him clean, and the faults and bugs inside him would linger menacingly in the background, waiting to cause glitches later on.

Joanna hadn't fixed him- that would have been impossible. But she'd been his workaround, helping him to bypass his problems and run effectively despite them. And now Elliot had taken her place.

Elliot had helped him through one of the most difficult times of his life, and seemed to understand him in a way that both comforted and frightened Tyrell. But Tyrell also knew the younger man had bugs of his own, and hoped that Elliot knew he could depend on him in the same way. They could help each other, and be better together. Now though, this was looking less and less likely.

Tyrell started to feel like he did on that awful night when he'd learned he'd never see his parents again. Like the world around him had dissolved into darkness, leaving just him. He'd come dangerously close to self-destructing then, and now there was nothing to stop him. _Nothing and no-one._ He didn't even have a goal to pursue now; he literally had no purpose.

He suddenly found himself breathing in too much air, and began to feel light-headed. He pressed his hands against the floor to ground himself, and to try and relieve the tingling in his fingertips. Tears started to roll down his cheeks. He was alone, and this time he didn't see a light at the end of the darkness.

Like a hand pulling him forwards, a realisation hit him. This wasn't over yet. He could fight for Elliot, surely there still had to be a chance. Shakily he pushed himself up and went to look for him.

Elliot hadn't known where to go in the house. He'd wanted desperately to leave, but there would have been an awful sense of finality to that, and he just couldn't bring himself to do it. But now, he was stuck in Tyrell's house. The house the man had shared with his wife for however many years. It felt wrong, like an invasion. Elliot had wormed his way into Tyrell's family and it was too soon, too quick. How could he have possibly expected Tyrell to be ready for a relationship with him when he was barely out of his marriage? A confusing, heart-breaking mind-fuck of a marriage at that?

He felt like the house was invading him too, in a weird way. Like the memories and secrets hidden in its walls were slowly creeping in, and settling into his bones. It didn't feel right him being there.

Where should he go? He couldn't go to their bedroom- that was far too intimate. The kitchen felt wrong too. It was where they'd shared their meals, asked about each other's days, entertained friends, and probably drunk too much wine.

In the front room he could see a ghost of the two of them lying together on the sofa. Maybe Tyrell would have his head in Joanna's lap while she played with his hair. Maybe she would be sprawled out while he rubbed her feet. It was called a living room for a reason; they'd laughed, fought, cried, kissed and talked in this room. _No._

He almost settled on the bathroom. Bathrooms were clinical. They were where you took care of your bodily functions, where you cleaned yourself. Brushing teeth, showering- there was nothing exciting about what went on in here. But then he imagined that this was where Joanna had discovered she was pregnant. Maybe even where she'd told Tyrell. Maybe they'd cried together afterwards. _No._

He eventually found himself in the large walk-in-wardrobe. Tyrell's things took up most of the space, so Elliot suspected that when Joanna had lived there she'd had her own separate wardrobe.

Yes, this was definitely Tyrell's own space. It was where he put on his suit in the morning and prepared himself for the day ahead. It was where he transitioned himself into professional mode, fingers nimbly fastening his tie, and adjusting his cuffs. It smelt like him- his cologne and freshly laundered clothes. The air was cool and Elliot felt calm here.

He looked around. Everything was meticulously organised by colour, and he noted with amusement that Tyrell had an unreasonable amount of shirts. He smiled, unable to stop the feelings of fondness he felt washing over him.

He ran his fingers over the cool silk of Tyrell's ties, and studied his collection of expensive-looking watches, not quite daring to pick any of them up.

He jumped when he heard Tyrell's voice behind him.

'Why are you in the wardrobe Elliot?'

'Um…' he faltered, unable to think of a reason that didn't sound insane. Tyrell didn't seem to mind.

'I think the one with the brown strap would look good on you.'

Elliot blinked, confused.

'The one you were just looking at, I think it would suit you,' Tyrell said with a small smile.

'Um…okay,' was all Elliot could manage, his mind not really keeping up with what Tyrell was saying.

An awkward silence hung in the air.

'Elliot, I don't want to lose you,' Tyrell's voice was so small Elliot almost didn't catch what he said.

Tears blurred Elliot's vision.

'You still love her.' It wasn't a question.

'Of course I do Elliot!' he cried, a look of total desolation on his face. 'We were together for thirteen years. Even knowing that none of it was real doesn't erase how I feel about her, or change my memories of our life together. To me it was all real. I know that it wasn't, but I can't make myself believe it.' He dragged a hand through his hair in frustration.

'And I _hate_ her Elliot! As much as I still love her, I hate her for using me. I hate her for stealing those years away from me. I hate her for making me trust her and then making me doubt everything. _Everything_ Elliot! I don't know how to trust anyone anymore. But somehow, despite that, I trust you. And now I've betrayed you, and I hate myself for that.' He stopped to catch his breath. Elliot sensed he had more to say so he kept quiet. He wouldn't have known what to say anyway.

'Yes, I love her Elliot, and I hate that I do…' he paused, taking in a deep breath, '…but I know that I definitely don't hate the fact that I love you. '

Elliot blinked. They'd alluded to love, but never said it to each other in so many words. Elliot wasn't very good at all that, and he'd felt it unnecessary to put labels or pressure on anything. They both knew how the other felt, and that was enough for him. But hearing it now from Tyrell's mouth, he realised he'd been wrong. It was good to hear it, amazing in fact.

'Really?'

'Of course Elliot! I love Joanna because of our history, and because feelings don't just go away suddenly, no matter how much you'd like them to. But I love you because of what we have right now, and our future.'

Elliot smiled, and Tyrell breathed out a small sigh of relief.

'I'm so sorry, holding my son for the first time, it overwhelmed me. And then seeing her, I just couldn't… I needed… '

He struggled to articulate his thoughts. 'It felt a snapshot of what our lives were supposed to be. The family we should have been. And it was too much-'

'I understand. You don't have to explain.' He reached out to touch Tyrell, but the taller man flinched away.

'Let me shower first?'

Elliot just nodded. As Tyrell started to walk away, Elliot called out to him.

'Ty?'

The older man turned to face him.

'I love you too,' he smiled.


End file.
